Some days, I just don’t know how to do it anymore. The awkward pauses and brief glances and crushed silences are too much. The pregnant moments. I miss the footsteps and the familiar smells and redundant days, but I can’t bear the weight right now. I don’t have the strength I once did. I’m tired.
But there is pre-school in the morning. And feisty firefighters. And FEMA grants. And next steps. And a life—happiness—to live fully. We are only what we experience. And it is all necessary—and also a salvation.
Here’s to figuring it out, good or bad. Baby steps, new beginnings or finding the way.
And thanking sweet baby Jesus for a shit ton of sauv blanc.