You have to assimilate sadness. You have to process it. It's part of life. Sometimes, I hate being an adult. I wish I could run in my room, slam the door, and scream and cry. If I was loud enough someone would come running, and soothe me. Someone would come to my aid, and make this better. There is no "making this better."
My mother's best friend died yesterday. This past Sunday I was lucky enough to trek across the country, take a Lyft to New York, and whisper in her ear.
" I love you. You gave me my mother back. You gave me an incredible gift," I told her. I guess it really doesn't get any better than that?
No comments:
Post a Comment