So worry grabbed my throat yesterday.  Squeezed tight.  Couldn’t breathe.  Froze my mind with fear.  Stories held me hostage–what might, what is happening, who did what, what will be?!?!

The antidote for this addiction is tedious, but eventually worked.  Release.  Let go.  Surrender.  Hand over.  Set aside.  Release.  Let go.  Surrender.  Hand over.  Set aside.  Release.  Let go.  Surrender.  Hand over.  Set aside.  Release.  Let go.  Surrender.  Hand over.  Set aside.

Over and over again and again.  Punctuated with quiet almost tearless sobbing in the tiny bathroom stall of privacy.  Feeling the feelings.  Honest with the heart.  Honoring the human idea of love wanting to help.

Knowing from years of experience that drinking or smoking or pills or shopping or gossip or fixing or even three soda pops won’t do anything for that plague of mental interrogation and anxiety.

So here You go.  She’s Yours.  Kicking and screaming, I place her in Your hands.  Right where she is, right where she always is.  I see your smiling face nod and gratefully take her to Your heart.  You are the ultimate Mother, after all.