"Mom, we're going to be working in San Francisco. Will you fly out?"
I didn't know how important those words were.
Eight weeks after Kenny's death.
Something I truly thought I was prepared for.
The end of a disease.
Five and a half years of our lives.
The one thing I had educated myself in every way I could.
I knew every Stage of Frontotemporal Degeneration.
Except the final one.
The most important one for me to know about.
The end.
I found it difficult to leave my home.
This was where I felt safest, strongest.
Home was everything to Kenny and me.
Back to Graham's phone call.
We will do anything for our children, won't we?
Three days later Alexandra and I were driving over the Golden Gate Bridge.
"Mom, are we on a bridge right now? The GPS says we are on a bridge!"
"Alexandra, I can't see a thing!"
That was our first trip over the Golden Gate Bridge.....
and I now understand the true definition of a fog bank.
The funny thing about the fog in San Francisco is this.
As thick as it is, once you drive though it, the sun is shining.
The sky is clear.
