Happy New Year to you and welcome back to the story of me and Andrew over a spontaneous lunch at Kentucky Fried Chicken. You may recall that the last event I posted was when he cleared the lunch table contents between us and took my hands in his. I had just told him about my young husband Henry's death in Viet Nam in 1968.
That's where I'll start.
After I recovered from Andrew's kind, tender holding of my hands as I wept, I said, "And maybe even worse. Henry's parents turned against me over an insurance policy. They were so angry I thought they might harm me. That's when my own PTSD began, fearing they might blow my brains out. I was not far off the mark when I learned his father was an alcoholic and owned an arsenal of guns.
Has fear ever gripped you to the point of illness? I hope not.
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Open For Lunch
Award Finalist in the "Health: Alternative Medicine" category of the 2017 Best Book Awards