Some days I miss the trees in Timberline Knolls.
Sometimes it’s easy to forget the rules, the pain, the tears, the work, and to remember the friendships, the art studio, and the pond with a bench facing it.
I remember the pride in earning your white hat, which gave you the right to take 15 minute walks alone and go between buildings without an escort.
I remember how proud I was of the logo I created on my white hat during art therapy.
I remember water games down by the pond. It was almost like we weren’t in a treatment center that afternoon.
Some days I’m terrified by my memories of that place. Of the meals and the snacks between meals and the terrible, terrible homesickness. The aching, throbbing need to be around my loved ones. The anxiety of a new place, new rules, new people all day every day.
But sometimes I miss the trees. They were so beautiful.