A Literary Ending...

     It's almost 2 o'clock on Thursday morning.  I dropped off the girls, and hobbled into the house.  It is so good to be home again.  Bob and William are sleeping peacefully, and my head is filled will all that was said and done between the time we rolled out last Sunday and this morning.  I feel oddly detached, as if this had all happened to someone else, or maybe it is more like the way J.K. Rowlings felt as she penned the final words of the last Harry Potter book.  A tremendous sense of relief, but also a sadness at letting go of something that has been such a part of your life for so long that you can't even remember what life was like before this all began.  I read in an article somewhere that Jo Rowlings always knew how she planned to end the final book.  It must be wonderful to know what will happen at the end, or even to know when you will reach it.  When I started down this path, I had no idea where it would take me, and never imagined that the journey would change my life in so many ways.  Like Harry, I have been blessed with friends that have fought with me, and for me, every step of the way.  I have had the wisdom of many wonderful "teachers" to turn to for guidance and reassurance when I lost my way.  Or as Dumbledore would say, "Help will always be given to those that ask for it."  All through the long drive home, my head was so filled with thoughts of where to go on from here that I could well imagine how poor Harry suffered from the scar that burned into his forehead when Lord Voldemort was angry or upset.  I finally just forced everything out of my head as we all did in the early days and weeks after Jeff's death.  At the time, I would read the Harry Potter series aloud to Bob and William for hours on end.  There were times when I was so hoarse from reading that I could barely speak above a whisper, and then Bob would take the book from me, and he would begin to read instead.  We kept William there in the bed with us, as if keeping him close could somehow protect him from the Malfoys and the Voldemorts of the world.  In my mind, it was almost as if Jeff had become Harry.  He was the one that introduced our family to the "wizarding world," and it was never difficult to imagine Jeff battling Trolls or befriending house elves in the company of Ron and Hermione.  I guess it wouldn't take a genius to figure out who would fill Tom Riddle's role, or maybe he is more of a Draco Malfoy since I cannot see Robert ever measuring up to Voldemort's potential... even as a villain.  I am more inclined to think of him as an arrogant, little git; too filled with his own importance to realize what a pathetic weasel he really is without a group of sniveling toadies to puff up his head and fight his battles for him.

I guess I could challenge J.K. Rowlings when it comes to the over-extended metaphor so the best thing is probably to finish this the same way Jo finished The Deathly Hallows...  "All was well!"