After calling my family and getting a few texts from my sister who refused to let me fly out to Missouri, I decided that I needed to go to the studio and paint. I needed to process things and think. I needed some space where I could get lost in what I was doing and not worry about the sixty million things I should be doing but couldn't because I wasn't in Missouri. Painting is my escape. It has always been my "safe place" and I really needed to be there. I was still able to talk to my brother-in-law, my father, and even got a call from my sister while there, but it felt better with a paint brush in my hand. My husband, being the great guy that he is, understood my need to paint during this and went to the studio and stayed close enough by to be there if I needed him, but far enough away that I still felt like I was escaping. It was probably the best way for me to deal with this and stay sane.
Painting can do that for some people. It can calm a person down, letting them able to process and think things through. It helps some people deal with their feelings and grief. It can help people sort out their emotions and get those out in a safe way. Painting is therapy and has helped me through many things. I am very grateful to have it in my life.
I haven't heard anything new about my sister but we are hopeful that she will be okay. She is conscious, talking, and stable. This is all good news. I'm sure I will be doing a lot of painting this weekend, between phone calls and texts from my family.