Little moments change us every day.
Mostly, we hardly notice; adjusting with a four-second, second-thought: next time I’ll…
It’s the tremendous moments that throw us. Moments so life altering, we clutch our chest, gasping it in. Release comes way too slowly; a barely audible woosh, because there are no words and there never will be.
Just as misleading as “A Year of Memories,” losses pile on.
a daughter, a father and husband, a brother, a mother and friend. pls, a closed head injury, stage 4 lymphoma, melanoma, and some sort of vague, obviously understated, emergency surgery I still don’t know enough about.
This is your year of firsts.
The first day, the first week, the first month. The first winter, spring, summer and fall. The first birthday, the first holiday, the first missed ritual. The first of many commonly ordinary, unspecial wishing days.
It’s ok. It marks time. It gives us a measured outline, a flowing structure.
It’s ok to have an honest day; especially, an honest holiday.
Holes lives leave cannot be filled, cannot be fixed, and are not meant to be, anyway.
They’re yours – to have or to hold or to heal.
I just want you to know: you’re not alone.
I’m walking beside you, because, that’s what love leads to.
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