These were the thoughts I had as I went home from Jeanette's funeral:
Here are some things I know: she was a beautiful and strong mountain woman who could figure anything out, chop wood, learn to use a chainsaw, and fix machines. She was courageous and she had a beautiful home and a beautiful life and friends who loved her dearly. She'd fought bipolar (with psychotic and paranoid tendencies) her whole adult life, and sometimes it was awful. But she was winning. Living life on her terms. And she had built something wonderful. But then somebody hit her dog, on purpose, with their car. And the world tilted. Her life unraveled. Her mind unraveled. And there wasn't anything any of us could have done. We all did all we could. I miss her.
Karen
24th October 2018