Husband and I took walks in the morning, sun bathed on the beach, had cocktails at sundown, then a gourmet evening meal.
Fabulous holidays, a break from work and routine, a release from the heartache left at our daughter’s door?
No! Heartache had a ticket and I worried still. We had left our daughter in a state of crisis.
I looked out at the sea, at the sun going down, the moon appearing in full. I listened to the roll of waves, the squawk of gulls, children playing with glee. Every sight, sound and smell, held memories of my daughter. I saw her in everything. I felt I would lose her. I feared she would die.
A text message appeared on my phone from Married Daughter: Laura at beauty parlour.
I was glad. I was mad.
How could Laura go from being so desolate to so carefree in a matter of days?
This would become a pattern, with each repeat I suffered in the same way as the first.
With our suntan and suitcase, we headed back home.
On the journey home my anxiety level climbed with the plane. I wondered what I was going home to. I wanted to see Laura, but I dreaded which Laura she would be.