And sadly I would need to revisit that thought in a few short hours. Russ walked back to the house alone as I gathered up our stuff. By the time I got home minutes later, Russ had fallen on the walkway cutting his upper eye open and getting a huge gash in his hand. He had been able to get himself up (a feat unto itself) but was quite concerned about all the blood on the walk.
We cleaned and bandaged his wounds, washed the sidewalk (he wouldn't leave until that was done) and headed to ER.
I think I was as much shaken up as Russ, perhaps more so. Lately I have realized that I am not liking the person I become when I am afraid. Working through the messier side of PD pushes forward some traits that disappoint me. Not even realizing it, I become judgmental and far less kind. I need to work on that.
Beginning the day celebrating determination and ending with tears of frustration boldly told me I had to work on my attitude. I can do this, but I do need to continually remind myself... kindness, hope, gentleness, and love... greet each person I meet with those qualities.