Tomorrow my baby sister (I know she dislikes that term, and doesn't get it, but there it is) goes in for a very rare and potentially dangerous adrenal surgery. My avoidance tactics have been in full gear, until yesterday when I suddenly snapped into what I can only really call my 'calmness'. The first time I got this was calling my Dad after I had been in a car accident at 15. He said he hoped to never heard that tone in my voice again, because it scared him so deeply. He described it as calm, matter of fact, deadpan, and something else. Without any heat, but not cold. Unfortunately he heard it again when I went to tell him a few months later that my sister had fainted and hit her head. Shock, I suppose, is what it is, self-protection of that kind, waiting. This is the first time I'm in this pre-emptively and for more than 10 minutes, so this is strange for me. I hope it goes away soon. I hope it doesn't until the surgery is over and she is absolutely and completely fine.
I called to tell her I love her. In about 33 hours, I plan to again.
In between, I'll pray.