I know I’ll think about this often.
I haven’t been in the mood for holidays, or really any celebration, this year. They all seem so empty. Maybe it’s because I’m 29, I’ll be 30, and things still seem the same.
Reading this felt different. The way it unfolded, the story of a mother who is suffering, who is passing down suffering without meaning to, it felt new. It felt old at the same time.
It’s worth it. Read it. It really is worth it.