The day sucked. I mean a full on complete meltdown type of day. I was woken up to basically watch my brother struggle like I did in middle school, which caused flashbacks of being at the table with stack and stacks of homework and while knowing there would be more added to the pile, I never wanted to go back. I would physically feel sick. So watching him go through that was torture. And about five minutes of getting up I started to realize that my hips were smarting pretty bad when I was standing and even sitting, and I hadn't felt that in awhile. And I got scared. So outside, trying to have a smoke break before my father came back, I had a full on breakdown with my mother. It was full of sobbing and pleading and begging. I'm not even sure what I was begging for, it might have been to not go back to my cane. To not go back to how I used to be. I'm not sure. I was just scared.
But I heard this great sound.
Now I used to listen for this sound while laying in bed at 1:30 in the morning when she would be on her way back home, worried that she crashed, and when I'd hear it I'd try to act as if I didn't notice she had came inside, or almost like I didn't care because I didn't want her to know I was worried when I was. But I loved that sound. The sound of familiarity, safety, home. That sound is of her non-muffled car coming down the street as I was wiping the tears from my face. Mom instantly says,"go to her." It's like she knew. She knew Hannah would have a way to make it better. I didn't even give her a chance to take her hands out of her pockets before I grabbed her. She didn't even say anything. She was either confused or she knew I just was having a fucked up time, I'm not sure. It didn't matter. She was there. Then for some reason she asks me to see if I can go on a drive. I'm not sure why she did that. It could've been because of her having a shitty day, or her wanting to spend time with me, or it could've been for my benefit. I won't know. But I don't think it matters. She took me away, even for a just a short time, she took me away from it all. The responsibility, the stress, the sadness. She rolled down the window and let me talk. And she talked, and then she just kept the window down. I'm not sure why, and now that I think about it she must have been freezing. I don't know why she let me keep it down. But all I know is, I needed the feeling of the wind blow the hair away from my face, because it was almost like it blew everything troubling away, and made it easier to deal with it all. She made it easier to deal with. And for that I'll forever be grateful.
