sorts.
you don’t know what to do with this day, so you do what you always do. you make space for memory, for grief, for love.
each of these nine years it has been different. there have been years of distraction and deep focus on new life. years when you could barely get out of bed. there was the year you brought yourself, surprised, to a holiday party. a small one. a safe space. one where people knew what day it was for you. one where people knew about empty arms.
this year you watched your girls build legos and turned on a christmas movie for them. this year, you said yes to 