A couple of years ago, I was just at the point of exploding. I had been taking care of everyone but me, and one Saturday afternoon when I couldn’t take it anymore, I laid the kids down for naps and woke my husband up from his, and told him I would be back in a couple of hours and asked him to keep the laundry going if you wanted clothes to wear to work on Monday. I jumped in the car and off I went.
I got about two blocks before I pulled over and turned off the car. I looked at myself in the rearview mirror and said, “Where are you going?” I had no idea what I wanted to do. I hadn’t done anything just for pleasure in so long, I couldn’t remember what I really enjoyed. As I sat there thinking, I remembered all the time my mother spent cleaning and rearranging her antique dishes collection. She loved those dishes, and whenever she needed her space you would find her with them or out scouring for more.
