Hi Moon,

It’s me again, spilling my heart to you because you’re always there, glowing quietly, never judging. Life’s been a lot lately, and I need your quiet light to sort through it. A few weeks ago, around June 17th, Patrick’s mom went into the hospital—her skin was so yellow, jaundiced. They found a tumor on the head of her pancreas, blocking her bile duct. It’s cancer and we’re waiting to hear about her options after her appointment today. It’s hitting me hard because my mom died of pancreatic cancer in 2019. We found out on Mother’s Day, May 12th, and she was gone by May 29th. It was so fast, so brutal, and we never got to have a proper funeral because of Covid shutting everything down in 2020. I think I’m still carrying that grief, and now this news about my mother-in-law is bringing it all back. I don’t want anyone to suffer like that, but especially not my wonderful mother-in-law.

Then, just a few days ago, on July 8th, a wildfire broke out near Clarissa and Tyler’s house—so close they could see it. Tyler’s sister Tarah had to evacuate first, a level 3 “GO” order, and then Tyler’s dad, stepmom, and brother got out, followed by Clarissa and Tyler. They’re all camped out at Tyler’s grandparents’ place all, safe, thank goodness. Their streets are all at a level 2 “SET” status as of yesterday, and they’re hoping evacuation orders lift by tomorrow night. But the weather’s turning hotter, and no one’s sure what’ll happen. I didn’t realize how much emotional attachment I have with their house and so many great memories, it has been my “safe place”. In my mind I used to always visiaulize my Aunt Elaines house as a place that was “safe”, basically a place where love is. I have that for my own home, but I didn’t realize that their place had become my new “safe place” in my head. Somewhere in the world that was safe for me to be emotionally, where love is. With no family left besides Patrick and the kids, the thought of their home burning hit me like a gut punch, and then I felt so selfish for worrying about my potential loss when they’re the ones displaced.

Today’s been rough, with all this worry about my mother-in-law and the wildfire.

Goodnight, Moon.