Black cat

You know, if I were the superstitious type, I might be fighting a bad case of nerves right about now.

To begin with, I just crossed that bridge a few hours ago, for the first time since the initial bolt of lightning that struck here exactly three months ago.

We're staying the night with my sister, the newlywed, before we press on to the same beach where I stared, stunned and depressed, at big blue waves that kept rolling in and swirling out, wholly undisturbed by the turn of events in my small world.

We'll spend a few days by the water, assuming that no actual lightning bolts from an encroaching hurricane attempt to knock us off-course.

If all goes well, my father will join us for a visit. He's unaware that, as we ignore his elephant in the room, I'll be anxiously awaiting word on my mother's health.

It's a small space that we'll be sharing. Not enough room, really, for two elephants.

So even though I'm not the superstitious type, as far as you know, surely you'll forgive me if I avoid walking under ladders, broken mirrors and the number thirteen.

At least for the next few days. And then, I hope, I'll be able to breathe again. Knock on wood.