Forward

It's 8am.

I've been up for an hour.

hurting

grieving

heartbroken

The babe in my arms is as close to comfort as I can get.

And it's not much.

This whole "grieving a living person" deal is shit.

It's not fair.

But I'm doing it.

One step at a time.

"It is never too late to be what you might have been."

- George Eliot

I see this every morning.

Something I wrote on a chalkboard.

I didn't write it for me.

At least, not at the time.

Amid the pain and heartache, I've made a decision.

It's my turn now.