And we keep waking up every day, doing stuff, maybe doing more stuff, looking for the things that might comfort us, asking the world for meaning, and then we lie in bed and either fall asleep or stare up and wonder what the planet would be like if we were all gone.
Try to remember what hope feels like. Try to believe that hope matters, even while the future is uncertain.
On this day, I acknowledge the grief of many while acknowledging the celebration by others. Such is the dichotomy that death presents to us, I suppose.
We do our best to balance the needs of the many against the needs of the few (or the one) — thank you Leonard Nimoy — and this means that sometimes, saying no would be more harmful than saying yes.
I have had a whole year to be forty-three, and I think it mostly went well. Forty-four is a weird number and I am looking at it with squinty suspicious eyes.
I can do my best but that never means it’s going to have been enough to keep the monster under the bed from escaping so that it can’t eat anyone.