Today, the womanchild had a car wreck, and though it hasn't been declared so yet, it looks like my car is totalled. The front end is only half the length it used to be. Tomorrow I'll deal with insurance agents, state troopers, the wrecker service, the hospital and whoever else needs me. Today I'll just be grateful that my daughter is intact, though shaken, bruised, scraped, mildly cut and aching. Tomorrow I'm sure she'll hurt more, but she's okay. That's what matters. That's enough. That's more than enough. That's a freaking celebration when I look at the twisted metal, fiberglass and collapsed air bags that used to be my car. It doesn't matter that she still doesn't want to speak to me. It doesn't matter that she told me to get out of the emergency room where she was waiting in a neck brace. (She didn't have to wear it home.) We still have each other, whether or not we enjoy that right now. We both know we love each other. Again, it's more than enough.
I couldn't help but think again of Gannet Girl whose family has recently lost a son and brother. I wish I could offer comfort but know that it cannot be given. Comfort is something which only comes on its own terms and in my experience only in tiny measures at a time. Yet I believe that it will come for us all. I must.