Outer Banks

I'm in the OBX right now for a weekend getaway with my husband. I've been advised to 'take a break-relax a little.' I visited with a dear friend, Nancy, yesterday. It was her birthday and we took a walk in the winter sunshine, then had lunch out at a landmark diner on the beach road. She's someone I can pour my heart out to and she never hesitates to give me the same treatment. Honesty with compassion, so refreshing. Last night was dinner out with my husband and another couple, followed by a fire in the condo and a cuddle on the couch. Yet even with all this, there's the invisible umbilical cord connecting me to that bedroom upstairs in my house in Richmond where my mother spends her days and nights. A nurse is looking in on her this weekend for the first time. It's all new to us-- the need for her to require help--and so shocking to me, since she was always the first one to help someone else. That's why, when she called to tell me the nurse has had a somewhat difficult life, and that she kissed my mother on the cheek when she left, I wasn't surprised. She has already bonded with this stranger and become her friend and mentor. In fact, I smiled to myself knowing full well that we are paying this nurse and she's receiving the gift of time spent with Jule, and will come away a better person for it. Truth is, it's great to get away, but I can't wait to get back home.