We ran parallel to it within the woods for a while, risking crossing roads when necessary, carefully skirting towns. I lost track of time, grateful for the chance to stop thinking about everything else and just focus on the job of putting one foot in front of the other and avoiding obstacles like trees, bushes and entangling weeds in the ditches and fields. Then we saw Mom’s truck and trailer waiting at the side of the highway up ahead. We slowed down to a human jog, allowing Mom to see our approach in the headlights as we ran up the side of the road toward her. By the time we reached the trailer door, Mom was there to usher us all inside. In the kitchen area, she gave me a quick, hard hug, checking me over for injuries before turning to do the same with Dad. His hard features softened for a moment. Finally he spoke up. “Joan, I told you we are all uninjured.” He stepped away from her to stow the blood bags in the fridge.
