I recently found a different way. The caregiving after-effects can run long and deep. Just when you think you’ve got it neatly tucked away, it whirls back up like a tornado. Perhaps it’s the 7th anniversary of mom passing, approaching along with the recent (and somewhat unpleasant) dealings of my brother’s estate when he passed late last year. Perhaps, it’s those little, tiny emotions that are tucked neatly in the back of my psyche that, even though I continue my practices, were still knocking. None of this was ruining my life, days, or decisions, but it was a constant, subtle, poke or prickle.