I Hear that Train a comin'...

Dear Lucy,

So this is my last post until I get to Florida, so I had better make it good (oh the pressure!)

I set out to run some errands last night and decided to go eat at a fast-food place called El Pollo Loco.

I got hooked on this place back when I still lived in California and couldn't find it in the San Francisco Bay area or in Washington. So it was always a treat to eat there while visiting Southern California.

I couldn't quite come to grips with why I hadn't gone sooner in this trip but felt compelled to go last night as it was my last chance.

As I sat eating my meal, it hit me: This was Anne's favorite place as well. It was like a pilgrimage for us and I had been avoiding it this trip because it was a trigger (not the horse).

I ate my meal reminiscing about Anne and how she would take forever savoring every bite while I wolfed mine down and ended up watching her.

By the time I finished my meal last night it was all I could do to make it to the car before the tears came. And did they come. In buckets.

So, it was another hurdle, and I survived, and the next time I visit So Cal I won't spend the whole trip avoiding the place.

One step at a time.

So, off I go to Florida that has no memories of Anne, no buttons to push, and maybe has a bit of a vacation from the grief.

--Kathy