“We were still young. His death was not supposed to happen. So, when I woke up to go work yesterday, 4 years after my husband died, I opened up my tired eyes, looked over to my nightstand, and there it was. That white cereal bowl with a slice of chocolate cake in it, left there by the one that came ‘next.’ He knew it had been a rough day. He knew I needed to have 5 whole, quiet minutes to just enjoy something that I love. Because he gets it. He really gets it.”
“My brother would do the recon. Sneak down the hall, hide behind the china hutch, peek around the kitchen door until he had an unobstructed view. No cake? Life went on. Yes cake? He’d army crawl back to my room with fear and panic on his face, and squeak out the word, ‘caaaakkkkeeee!'”
It is letting yourself be normal. Regular. Unexceptional. It is sometimes having a dirty kitchen and deciding your ultimate goal in life isn’t going to be having abs and keeping up with your fake friends.