My time at home is ending; a new adventure begins next week. Without looking, work found me; I had three offers to consider, and I accepted the most challenging one.
Why? Because I think I can.
I’m like a bumble bee; I shouldn’t be able to fly, but I do because nobody told me I can’t. Not for nothing, folks are warning me and now I find myself collapsing into tears because I wonder if in fact this is the best choice I could have made, and did I make it for the best reasons?
My older guy, the pain and delight of my heart, continues to struggle with everything. We requested and received the diagnosis and treatment information to submit to medical assistance to renew them both. Younger’s was probably the shortest his has ever been; elder’s was a punch in the chest. There isn’t a thing there that doesn’t belong, but the magnitude is soul crushing.
I know that if things don’t work out, it won’t be the end of the world. At the same time, I wish I knew what was best; I wish I knew why things seem to come looking for me; I wish I knew how it all ended so I can pick the right path instead of trying to make my best guess, because my best guess is always wrong.
I want to believe everything will be okay.
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