“She was deciding whether she wanted an anchor or a sail.” It is the same choice my Patty would have liked examining so many years ago. But she wasn’t wise then. That would come much later. Then she needed love, she needed security, she needed stability, and she needed joy. She welcomed what I offered I was her personal anchor, to love her and keep her safe. It was much later, with the children raised and no longer needy, that she discovered one day that she really wanted to fly and now she needed a sail. But I was not a sail. I didn’t have the bright colors. I didn’t have the capacity to grab the winds of life and let them carry us into the unknown. I was still the anchor, still the harbor of safe love. It was during this time that the cursed illness took most of the wind from her own sail. Now she needed the anchor as life tried its best to crash her on the rocks. And I was there for her, holding her secure against the tricky winds, as she dreamed of unrealized flight. I think that she was glad then that she had chosen an anchor to love.
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