Sometimes I feel lost being torn away from all that was familiar in my life. I don't know where anything is. The sum total of all my possessions is scattered between three houses and several garages. I haven't seen my home in Minnesota for two years and haven't been to Grand Portage in a year. Someone else lives in my home I spent over 20 years in. I haven't seen my second Mother, Lake Superior in a year. I miss her shining, big sea waters. I haven't seen my Children or Grand Children in what seems to be ages.
I wake up everyday and my first thought is, "Are we cooking today, or can I sleep in a while?" My second, "Where are we?" I'm not really sure where I am at any given time, I have to look out the window to check.
At this moment I'm half dressed, half combed and barely awake after yet another event. I've had the incredible luxury of a hot shower. Still, I ache from head to toe. Surely I must be crazy.
Then, Doyle brings me my first cup of coffee. He smiles at me and everything falls into place. I know where I am. I am with Doyle. That's all that is really important. All that really matters.
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