So much life has happened in two years.

So.  Much.  Living.

And dying.

Somewhere in between there I became a different woman, one I that I do not always recognize but often call to, like a song bird sings to the wind.  Calling into the sky with sad melodies of loneliness.

Today is Mother's Day.  What for many is a lovely day of family of laughter has been a day of keeping a child from loosing their mind into the depths of of mental illness.  The newest illness so disparaging that we live on the edge of the abyss.  Like hostage negotiators, we talked the child off the cliff again.  We know that we will have to over and over, maybe in a hour, maybe tomorrow or maybe next week.  We know that won't be the last time.  We pray that it will never be the last time because if it is, it means we failed.

And two other children haven't called or texted yet.