Thursday, August 4, 7:48 PM. Brewer.

Yet again no service today. It’s frustrating because although it’s against the rules, I suppose, I was planning to text Jonathan (he’s housesitting for us, watching the animals) just to let him know we’re okay and see if he had any news. It’s odd because we’ve looped back around and are getting close to civilization, such as it is out here. For a while we were pretty near I-70 where you’d think there’d be service everywhere, but nothing, not even one bar. It was cloudy, maybe that’s it, or sunspots or who knows what. Frustrating. But we should get back to Sawtooth tomorrow and, assuming there are no emergencies, on our way home.

I had no headaches at all today. I feel good. In fact I haven’t felt this good in months. Maybe it’s a sign my prayers are being answered.

We talked last night, Amy and I, after the kids fell asleep. It didn’t make everything all better—not even close—but it was a start.

I’ve contributed more to our problems than I knew. With all my coaching and teaching and volunteering, I left her alone too much. When I get home late, I don’t feel like talking or listening. But that’s what she needs. Then she nags, since that’s the only way she knows to get my attention, and it drives me away.

She’s been hopeless, and hopelessness has led to vulnerability and impulsiveness. That’s how she got into trouble. But it’s my trouble too.

She said she was sorry. She sobbed, bad, like choking. I don’t like to remember it. I was afraid it might wake up the kids, but there was nothing I could do. Then she moved into my arms and I held her. I told her I forgave her. And I do.