In many ways, I am grateful for this experience and the simple lessons of gratitude we have learned, yet still unaware of the many lessons to come.

Grocery shopping ...what was once a burden is now a joy, almost exciting! We can buy food of our own; bandaids of our own! Things we once took for granted are now exciting additions to our stripped down existence. Not only because we now have assistance while we are on this journey to independence, but because while we were in a traditional family unit we had no choice... were not allowed to choose for ourselves. To use the shampoo of our choice, cook the food that we actually want to eat, these are incredibly freeing choices. It is so uplifting to my self-esteem not to worry about where the next meal will come from. It is an emotional relief. We are like kids in a candy store. I let them each choose their own breakfast cereal; we leave with four kinds! We sketch out a week's menu on a small piece of paper and plan our purchases accordingly. We had money from the voucher left over. We chose well. We head "home;" our little cart overburdened with treasures.

The walk back to the shelter is uphill. No wonder we enjoyed the walk to the store so much! We re-adjust the contents of the cart, bags tied to the sides just like the street people we used to look at with wonderment trying to understand why they didn't just drive to the store. Reminders of past injuries return; joint pain, muscles burning, back and sciatic pain piercing my right hip, down my leg wrapping around my knee and down to my toes. Waves of depression sweep through my body. Reminders of where those injuries came from creep into my mind... "Push them back, Mindy. It's not time" I think to myself.

My teenage daughter takes a turn "at the wheel." She has been strong, so strong; stronger than a 15-year-old should have to be. All five of our children lost their childhood to the abusive, smothering nature and bizarre, unpredictable behavior of their father. My own childhood abruptly ended by the simple act of allowing him to take me home from a church dance. Allowing him into my home. I was so stupid; so naive... only 16. Barely older than my daughter is now. How could I let it happen? How could he hurt the ones he says he loves?

Darn it! I did it. I allowed myself to think about it; feel that pain again. The tears start to swell so I take more deep breaths and look away, finding some highlight to distract their attention.

"Have you noticed that every single curb in New Hampshire is made of solid granite? Wow, I'd hate to accidentally hit a tire against one of those. Can you imagine how much granite had to be quarried to make every curb on every street from granite? I wonder where the quarry is? New Hampshire is called the 'Granite State,' you know. It is said that New Hampshire men are made of granite... Somewhere there is a huge rock outcropping that looks like a man carved right out of the side of a mountain. It's called the 'Old Man of the Mountain.' Maybe we can see it sometime." I ramble on...

It is enough. The tears have been pushed back. The pain is stuffed back down to its dark place. I am composed again, though I feel it moving around within me, searching for another opportunity to escape. I can control it. Yes, I can do this.