Sunny Days, Dark Nights

The sun came out yesterday and warmed our little patch of Earth. Suddenly it felt less like the dead of winter. The spark had returned.

Last week at this time I had reached the end of my rope and was urged by our social work professionals to start our respite weekend from B. two days early. On Friday my husband and drove 5 hours to spend two days and nights in this fabulous yurt:

The couple who rent it love to cross-country ski, so their 37 acres are criss-crossed with 3 km of ready-made trails (good for me, since I'm a complete novice). The hub and I enjoyed the exercise and the tending of the wood stove and an authentic Finnish sauna experience, and most of all, each other's companionship.

On our return, B. seemed to be just slightly more pliable or resilient, slightly more willing to take responsibility for her behavior. Maybe I was just riding the post-yurt buzz, but two nights ago, nearing the finish line of 3 overdue math assignments, as she roared, first, that she would "rip [my] face off" (her usual threat) if I didn't stop smiling, then, as my smile teetered into laughter, would "pull [my] bottom lip over my head" (??!!!), I broke into a jag of hilarity--and through the tears I think I saw her fighting back a smile herself. You'd have to have been there, but it represented progress.

The quilt I've been working on is sunny, too. Check it out! I've done all the patchwork, and have the perfect fabric for the border and backing, here in my stash. The pattern reminds me a little of metal pieces manipulated by a magnet.

Having gotten this far yesterday afternoon, I was so looking forward to ... everything. Spring, finishing the quilt, giving it to D., the young woman with Asperger's whose sunny personality is its inspiration. Underneath all this optimism was the sense that B. may be shedding a skin on the path of growth and healing. But last night as we drove home from a visit to her mom, I was physically assaulted by her for the second time in 10 days, simply for holding the line on a deal we had made.

The sun is shining again today, but my heart is under the covers all scrunched up in pain, trying to make sense of it all.