So that pretty much brings this blog into current time. In the next couple of months, I'll be moving two hours away to our little farm. The Pidge has let my daughter and son-in-law become her housemates, so she'll have people here who love and support her health challenges. I finally broke silence and told her that our relationship has changed so fundamentally that it's time to look at other options. She was able to hear that, and didn't fall down dead. (This fear sounds ridiculous, but in light of how hard I have fought to keep her alive, it doesn't feel that way).
A couple of days ago, while trying to make sense out of all of this, I asked myself a question that had never crossed my mind before...What if all these years of having relationships not work were problematical because I was not a heterosexual monogomist? If I am a bisexual polyamorist then no wonder things never fit. Maybe it was more than a square peg and a round hole. Maybe it was a rainbow colored, triangular peg trying to squeeze through the eye of a needle. A very very dense peg, at that.