“Dave wants the house back,” our landlord’s mother told me. In those five words, my life changed. Only an hour before, I lived in blissful ignorance, planning the coming months as I sought to rebuild my fortunes after a hard six months of helping family members (specifically Daughter #2 and her partner). Joy and sadness have been previously documented in Why Do Terrible Things Always Come in Threes? They would be moving in three weeks, and then, I would step on the gas and start to pull ahead. My illusions shattered.
There is a strange horrible beauty to life, and death, sometimes. In the hours after a waterspout over The Chesapeake Bay turned into a tornado and ravaged our town in the earliest hours of Monday, July 24th -- by the flickering light of candles -- my younger daughter miscarried her child. Her sister curled up next to her on the bathroom floor holding her tight as we cried, then laughed, and cried again.