i am currently packing for the 3 annual road trip with my 3 orphans. 3 consecutive years of the same road trip has big bro grumbling at the business as usual. he wants disney world. my senior mommy senses say we need the security of repetition. 3 years running might be monotonous to a fancy 9 year old, but the 7 and 4 year olds are still literal babes in the woods. they LIKE repetition. fancy 9 year olds still benefit more from the repetition than they realize.

we will begin the road trip with meeting up with my younger sister in the spot halfway between our two houses. even the 9 year old is excited to see her again. she is the one who rescued our little ship of fools from the crash and burn of my covidic breakdown and has forged a permanent place in the kid's heart because of that rescue. she is caring for the sister between us in age who is in the end stages of alcoholism. this sister's suicide dramas were epic and non-stop. those dramas were understandable but still traumatic. are we surprised that i am having a rather intense series of flashbacks to those dramas as i brace myself for visiting with the wheelchair bound shell of a person i will be sharing libations with tomorrow evening? she still prays daily for death, but so far the answer to her death prayers remains, "not today, child."

i'm not sure what i am reaching for here. just venting? attempting to get ^it^ into words?

again i leave the mood icon on the rapid cycling median. it is the best of times. it is the worst of time.