I've always been a person who takes care of things. As my profile puts it: 'I take care of things. My children, my husband, my dog, the birds outside, and the rabbit who lives under the garden shed.' That is my nature. At church, I appointed the two official information sources, Jean and Karen, so that Tim is not inundated with a zillion calls, repeating the same information over and over. He'll be tired. Jean and Karen will talk to Tim, and then they'll be the ones that people call throughout the day. I've also cleaned the house, and I made a big casserole for Tim so that he does not starve to death. I've appointed Dixie to take care of Dylan (he lives not far from her, and with her sense of humor, she'll be a big help to him when the wheels start to wobble). I've appointed Mary to check in with Cara. They'll be a good match. I've also suggested that Cara call Dixie from time to time. Yes, indeed. I am a person who takes care of things. And now that all these things are done, it's just me, and a computer, and a clock. We will be leaving the house in 3 hours. This day has begun. I don't ever know what to expect. Not really. It depends on what they find, and where they find it, etc. But I think that I can expect that people will be kind. I think of the mammogram lady. She took one look at me and said, "You need a hug," and I got it. I think of my church. George cried at the news. I took his face in my hands and said, "Don't now, or you'll have me crying too." There were tears, and encouragement. I found flowers, and a pumpkin pie. I've had tons of supportive written words. Casseroles are being made all over town. Mr. Feeney is dropping everything to come sit with Tim tomorrow. And for the first time in my life, really, I feel myself exhaling and falling back into that comfort, allowing myself to be wrapped in kindness, in the caring of others. I'm pretty lucky.