I Am Cured!

Day 573.

We are home, George on crutches.

I had that moment on the plane when I suddenly realized, as before, all over again, that Luke was dead. I wept, and George gently held my hand.

Luke’s loss will always be sad. But I am in amazement that almost a week into my return to LA, that my suffocating trauma has not returned.

I have lived with that trauma in varying degrees of disability for 560 days, and lived without it for only 13.

Internally, I am that biblical cripple, cured by the hands of Jesus.

I remember nothing of how I used to feel, just that I couldn’t do what I am doing now.

My soul roams my reality, somewhat dazed and in wonder and disbelief. Reticent to say out loud. “I am cured!.” “I am cured!.” But so far, it appears that I am.

I delve into my technical self to work on my book layout. I function in my home.

My eyes are clear and the dirt and the mess around me, in the house, and in the garden through lack of care these past months are all suddenly visible to me.

I take back tasks that Adam has been doing in my mental absence. Almost querying why he is doing them - Oh yes, I remember now- I was fucked!

The storm of lukelove work is here, as the spirit of Luke had warned. So much to be done. George needs to be driven, the book is to go live on Amazon by June, for Goliath 2 is about to go out with a dedication to Luke.

I am ready. It’s a lot. But I am ready. We’ll see how long this keeps. But Jesus didn’t cure me, love did. A Mother’s love for Luke and George. Unconditional, accepting and selfless.