This should be the easiest because you just need to draw a line from the end of the 3rd point across to the right. It’s just hard to know when to stop the line because it seems to go on forever.
Both parking garages are closed at this late hour, so my daughter pulls into the area outside the emergency room with its glowing sign casting beams of red. There is a moment of deja vu. We’ve been here before. She gives me a wan smile before she turns off the engine and opens the door.
I, too, step out into the chilly March night and pull my coat tightly around me. The accident happened at least 6 hours ago, and clouds have obscured the stars. They are now just flashing pinpricks and cast faint light on mere mortals. I search frantically for the North Star, but it has abandoned me.
“Ready?” asks my daughter and I take a deep breath. How can I be ready?
“Ready?” asks my daughter and I take a deep breath. How can I be ready? How was I ever ready for the upheaval caused by Ron’s illnesses? But my daughter is waiting, so I nod.
I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her to me. I am her mother, strong and capable of shepherding her and her brothers through the latest step in this eternal trail of tears. We walk across the concrete parking lot, the red fluorescent lights emitting a faint hum, their ballast overloaded.
The sliding doors of the ER open before us. I give one last glance at the sky. The North Star has disentangled itself from the gray cloud and shines dimly. It is faint hope.
We enter the abyss. The doors close behind us.
I look forward to reading each new chapter.