When I said good-bye to my family my teen-aged sister and my mother were in a gridlock argument. They sort of remind me of the 405 S. at 5:45 on a Friday afternoon or the Hoover damn for all the energy flows between them.

The argument had something to do with my sister's claim that she never was taught how to ride a bike. My mother suggested that perhaps the child she rode around on bikes with outside the house was some other little girl. I offered that maybe it was my sister's "evil" twin. My step-father took it one step further (and it's obvious really...I was just feeling in a kind mood) by offering that maybe it was the "good" twin. When I hugged my sister good-bye she whispered in my ear loud enough for everyone to hear...

"Help me..."

When I hugged my mother good-bye she didn't bother to whisper.

"Help me..."

I helped everyone by getting in my car and driving away, all while contemplating yet another beautiful illustration of the forces that created my intense co-dependency.

Still, when I got to LA I felt sad to be so far away from my family, craziness and all.

Just for today, I can love my family.