I’m on the train home. I am sitting in Penn Station in NYC while the train loads the next round of people. I am listening to the soundtrack of “Damn Yankees,” on my free trial of Apple Radio, and it makes me laugh that I still know all of the words. I was the stage manager for this musical back at Long Lake Camp, so I heard it sung a lot! I remember buying the tape when I came home from camp that summer, and listened to it over and over. It reminds me of the constant replaying of “In the Heights” in my car with the boys now. It’s amazing how even though we’re not blood related, we have many things in common.

It was so hard to leave this morning. I told mom that she did not need to wait for me to return to go. She looked at me with the saddest of eyes and said, “I’m learning its not my choice.” It’s unbelievably heartbreaking. I told my brother and dad that I feel guilty for leaving. My brother told me that he could see I was depleted and I need to recharge.

Ok, this will probably be my last post for a while.