“Joe can you get their bags?” Mom was still holding onto Allie, as if she were afraid she’d get away.“Mom, we brought so much, we need to help...Joe,” Allie said as she walked over to get a bag. Maggie got a bag too, and I got the rest as we walked inside the house. I made two trips, and carried all the bags upstairs to Allie’s old room while they sat at the kitchen table and talked.When I got back to the kitchen, I walked up behind Allie’s chair and put my hands on her shoulders. Mom looked up. I kept still, almost not daring to breathe as she fought her silent fight against the feelings I knew she’d have to let out at some point, at the same time knowing I wasn’t going to suggest that she process them right now. There would be plenty of time after the four weeks she had forced me to agree on, to go through what she’d told me and to help her come to terms with her memories, her feelings and her strong reactions. After a long moment of silence, she kept talking, her voice a bit rougher. More

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