Golf!

Marshall played golf a couple of days ago, with his brother and father–and I swear it did him more good than any other course of treatment he has had so far! He actually made it 18 holes, which he, nor I, thought he would be able to do.

I can’t decide what to do about going to Tennessee to see Dad. Marshall wants to come too, but I don’t think he would be very comfortable up there at all. In fact, I am pretty sure he would be miserable, which, in turn, will stress me out terribly, and I will be highly stressed anyway. And then there are the kids to figure out. Sighhhh. What to do?