-85-
13 March 2008
Dear Lorne,

With most of my possessions packed into my car, shortly after midnight I started driving south through the howling storm to catch a ferry to France. Only able to look back using the side view  mirrors, stuff was stacked up almost to the ceiling, that with a sudden stop would come flying forward to crush me. I had to stay focused, battling for control with the buffeting side wind while overtaking lorries whose wake made it even harder to see the road ahead. This was an easier way to leave Scotland, the cruel weather leaving no time for hesitation. The previous summer when I drove the girls back to their mother, we took small roads at a leisurely pace, allowing some time  to linger. Are there places so hard to leave that you hesitate to return to?
        
The upper deck of the midnight bus from London's Victoria Station to Glasgow always seemed happier when heading north. On one trip, a young palace guard stationed at Windsor,  confided that he once stuck his tongue out when only a young boy was looking, who then told his parents, only to be promptly smacked and scolded for lying. Once a month I came down to France to visit  my children for a few days, trying to spend some one on one time with each one, allowing for each other's undivided attention. While visiting their teachers, I met someone. What happened from there will not be part of these letters. Although you and one other person are the only ones I know of reading them on a regular basis, the belief that this may in some way lead to something helps keep it going. While having no fear of the limelight myself, this may not apply to others, so their privacy must be respected, regardless of the impact they may have had on my psyche.

Like in Seattle,  once again it was time to leave it all behind and start over again elsewhere. My daughters' half brother's father had a temper, at one point stating his age and demanding respect. In spite of how I enjoyed living in Scotland, my children needed me living closer to them. Can you truly regret a decision when you really had no choice? Would you agree that worrying about what others may think is a roadblock to self expression? Having someone who loves you, needs you and finds comfort in your arms, is all the respect that really matters.

Nothing like starting over again, again,