Like this past month.
I knew I had to write, but I just never did.
Other things called me.
Things that were not more important, but, in my eyes, more fun.
I should have written.
Writing is good for me, it helps me think, it helps me to accept.
It helps me accept the fact that Henry is crawling.
He's crawling, and there is no one to chase him.
He bumps his head and I kiss him.
But it's the only kiss he gets.
It helps me accept the new reality.
The reality that I can go for a bike ride on a beautiful spring day and enjoy being with my husband and baby.
The reality that I can show a tiny fuzzy mouse to Henry and watch his wonder and laugh with him.
The reality that today is a day to treasure, no matter what happens tomorrow.
Live fully.
You will not regret it.
Live fully.
You will not regret it.
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