My second day into our trip and my sister-in-law asked Me why I felt trapped in the car on the way here. Her words connected at a deep level. Why was I using that particular word; Trapped. I knew it was my historical wound touching my soul when I was put in the back seat of my parents car at the fireworks. We Must of driven the night to get back to Rochester, from West Virginia. I woke as we drove down Brooks Ave and I looked up and saw my favorite ice cream shop was on the side of the road and once again I was left wi.th an unworthy feeling of care which was not pre-preparing me for the events ahead.
