Yesterday was apparently a rough day for Lone Heron. I woke up in the middle of the night to pee, and Lone Heron was in her car. The light was on and, as I learned later, she had not slept a wink.
She came into the house a little later, and then there commenced a late-night bull session between the two of us. I told her how happy it made me feel to know now that Estrella Vista was to be held in such capable hands, that my vision for the place would be one day actualized. She told me that this time and place brought up for her so many triggers that she had believed and hoped were a part of her past.
I won’t tell you what she said to me; that is between us. She commented again that this is the first time she’d ever met another parricide, that the similarities and parallels were uncanny. She commented again that the bonds she felt with Alex are lifelong, that she will always be dedicated to his welfare. Yet the discussion impressed upon me how much I still have to learn about parricides, that healing for them all is a lifelong pursuit.
The conversation impressed on me that the need for what we are doing here is so acute, that the prisons do nothing but delay their healing and make the problems they face far worse.
No one but those who have experienced it can appreciate the beacon of hope that this place represents—not even me. It is weird to be such an integral part of the story, and yet to be an outsider. It makes me more thankful than ever to have had the parents I did.
70° Cloudy and Clearing