You had a pile of rocks, and you cleaned them up pretty and made a necklace. Meg got jewels, and she hung herself with them.
It’s funny how once you start pretending, you realize how much everyone else is too.
I was reminded just why God wants us to forgive. Not simply because it’s the key to a better world, but because of what it does for ourselves. Forgiveness is God’s gift to us. Christ forgave us. He forgave our sins. That was his gift. But by allowing us to forgive each other, he opened us up to that divine love. The article had it right. Forgiveness: It’s a miracle drug. It’s God’s miracle drug.
Sometimes you don’t even need to be in the same room for the damage to be done.
Remember, the opposite of bravery is not cowardice, but conformity.
I failed her in life. But I won’t fail her in death.
Life can be hard and beautiful and messy, but hopefully, it will be long. If it is, you will see that it’s unpredictable, and that the dark periods comes, but they abate – sometimes with a lot of support – and the tunnel widens, allowing the sun back in. If you’re in the dark, it might feel like you will always be there. Fumbling. Alone. But you won’t – and you’re not.
Because it doesn’t seem like living to me, it seems like persevering, like it’s the most I can hope for.
But if that’s what happens to normal, what hope is there for the rest of us?” I ask him.
It’s an act of bravery to feel your feelings.
They may be complete strangers, with different lives and different problems, but there in that examination room they are measuring sadness the same way. They are measuring it in loss.
You type what you’re feeling and press send before you have a chance to talk yourself out of it. And then you wait, and wait, and wait, and nothing comes back, so all those things you thought were so important to say, really, they weren’t. They weren’t worth saying at all.
Forever and a day.
I only need a second. So I can show her that I’m here. That someone’s still here.
Annoyance has made me bilingual.
To be the holder of other people’s loss is to be the keeper of their love. To share your loss with people is another way of giving your love.
It’s okay,” he tells me. “If you want to go. Everyone wants you to stay. I want you to stay more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.” His voice cracks with emotion. He stops, clears his throat, takes a breath, and continues. “But that’s what I want and I could see why it might not be what you want. So I just wanted to tell you that I understand if you go. It’s okay if you have to leave us. It’s okay if you want to stop fighting.
How can you believe someone to be so beautiful and amazing and just about the most magical person you’ve ever known, when it turns out she was in such pain that she had to drink poison to rob her cells of oxygen until her heart had no choice but to stop beating?
To dream is the ultimate dare, is it not?
Not sure there is such a thing as a minor miracle.