As I wandered home and returned to my backyard, my next door neighbor called over the fence, "How are you?" "Better now," I responded. I told her I was doing final edits on the story of my daughter falling from the magnolia tree - this story is one familiar to our closest neighbors. No explanation was needed. "I can talk sometime if you need to" she shot back over the fence. "Thank you, but some things need to be done alone." We nodded our heads and hearts. As mom, we each knew what this meant.

As I prepared to do final edits on chapter 7 entitled "Treasures in Darkness," my body tensed and clenched within. These things happened on an unconscious level as I prepared to once again face and re-live my most terrifying twelve hours as a mom. 

It was a rainy Monday morning. A monthly gathering of my spiritual sisters who share just over three hours together. We are of different colors and living life in various decades - mostly 40's - 70's. We are better together.

I arrived at the back door alongside my friend Linda. She is a writer and lover of words like me.  I slipped off my rain boots and walked inside the simple and modest home where we regularly meet. So very often when I spend time in this place, I am standing on holy ground.