Now I’m confused. I was texting a message to my family. Sometimes I’m wordy, this was one of those times. I might have written four or five sentences. Since it occurred a couple of weeks ago, I’m not sure what the message was about. My guess was that it was about the car. No sooner had I typed the final period, reached for the send button and the whole thing DISAPPEARED. I quickly remembered this happening to me before. In fact, it was soon after my father passed over. I was writing TO PAP, WITH LOVE. Sentences would disappear as if there was a Packman gobbling them up. Sometimes it was complete paragraphs. But in the messages I exchange in the family, I haven’t experienced this before.
Editing has continued, of course. If when I’m writing a thought ramble, the subject or the content doesn’t pass, the thought ramble doesn’t save. BUT IT DOESN’T DISAPPEAR. I can reread the thought. I have time to fix the problem.
Since it is now apparent that my reasoning has big holes in it, I have decided that instead of crediting a specific person, I’ll just credit my “team.”
Once again heading to the country, this time it was just Robin and I — my son remained home. My car didn’t seem to pick up the speed it needed getting on the expressway. All during the drive, my car worried me. It was not maintaining its speed. It speeded up, it slowed down. I didn’t seem to be putting more pressure on the gas pedal or less. When it really started to slow down, I mashed the pedal a little bit more.
I had convinced myself to call our mechanic out there on Monday. Friday, after driving to the store in town, the service engine light appeared. The I was uncertain about driving it. Thankfully our mechanic was able to fix it on Tuesday. He took it for a drive on Monday, and realized it drove “like a dog.” And FOUND THE PROBLEM. It was a dream to drive on Wednesday.
Wandering With Spirit 
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