Here I am in Denmark. Ever since leaving our place in Costa Rica 11 days ago, Coco and I have been on the road. My natural disposition is that of a homebody, so traveling here and there is not easy for me. Coco doesn’t seem to be bothered; she’s just relaxed and happy wherever she is.
I am exhausted, sitting on the sofa. My friend ever so gently picks up one of my feet and strokes it softly. His tenderness and love flowing into me make my heart burst open. The trauma I am holding in my cells is triggered instantly.
Joy. We can never take it for granted. Before the breast cancer and Steve’s murder I had a lot of joy. Mostly I recognized it on photographs and when I saw my shining eyes in the mirror, but honestly, I did not really feel it. Then the s#*% hit the fan, and joy was gone. Wham.