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and brought her to work, then returned to my job just in time to get back to work. I never ate lunch. I learned many short-cuts around town.

The US Naval Academy steeps in history, academic excellence, and military honor. My middle daughter was accepted there. As all plebe parents must feel, this parent felt no other parent could be prouder. Tradition called for parents to visit their plebes at the academy, after plebe summer. After that crazy summer, they needed to see family. I didn't tell her until later, but I couldn't afford any more than the airfare and the rental car. Parents' Weekend lasted four days. I slept three nights in that rental, somewhere on the streets of Annapolis - woke up in time to run into a convenience store restroom to clean up and change, and get to the USNA in time for the day's events. There was no way I was going to miss this.

Over the years, it was the seemingly smaller events that threw me for a loop. It wasn't being amongst labeled psychos on the psyche ward of a hospital during visiting hours; nor finding your husband on the kitchen floor with paramedics surrounding him and cops surrounding your home, as you return from an errand. Not having to replace household items and kids' things because they had been hawked to purchase drugs...

No... instead, it was the day I left work to find a flat tire on my car. I simply got in the car and broke down. It was the day my prized houseplant died. Or the day I couldn't attend my son's track meet. Caring for my husband and his troubles became rote and methodical. I believe I just sort of numbed myself to it. But my daily household activities and my kids activities - well, that was a different story. I focused on them. I put my heart and soul into them. And if I failed in that performance, I felt lesser the person. It wasn't until after some therapy sessions, that I was able to turn that thinking around.

I never drank myself to oblivion, even though to this day I enjoy a glass of wine to wind down. I never sought out any self-destructive 'escape.' I found them distasteful, and just not an option.

Instead, I sought out creative self-expression and self-development.

Yep, in addition to two jobs, ever-demanding teens, my home, and the failing health of my husband - I began to tend my own gardens, and took up guitar, photography, and swimming lessons (I feared deep water... still do). No, not all at once, but over the course of a few years. And whenever I could - most likely while folding the laundry or cleaning the house, I listened to music; music that was beautiful to my ears. And when I would think of it, I'd dance up the stairs or down the hall - lighten my step, and therefore my heart.

My mom may have passed on strength of character, strength in silence, and the art that is hard work - but I made one giant leap beyond her legacy. I poured affection all over my kids. Sometimes, I 'put off' people because of my tendency to hug. I don't care.

Life is too precious... and too short.

And there is just too much, yet, that I want to do...

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