Last year, this was going on. I was living minute-to-minute. Didn’t know if things would improve.
This year, this was my day: Pancakes for breakfast and a cappuccino/milk toast with J and the boys, because it’s a year later and I’m still here. A lazy morning and then a sudden formulation of a plan for the day. An outing to the city for lunch, a movie, a playground.
Back home, I ate dinner quickly and then left again – alone, such a sweet, unfamiliar sensation on a Saturday night – to see a friend who was reading from her new book. A friend who, like me, knows very well how it is to feel lucky to still be here.
I’m glad I’m here. I’m glad you are too.