There are a few things so precious as knowing one is seen, heard, known, accepted, cherished.
And no matter what or when or how or what else is most certainly going on that may well take front seat and burner.
Few things are as real to the core of one’s heart and to the moon and back again.
When I forget, in the bustle of the day-to-day annoyances and to-do lists and in the boggy mess of worry and all manner of variegated helplessness … I remember.
A card from a dear friend who is no longer here in physical form, and who even as she struggled to find light at the end of the already quite dark tunnel of the illness that would soon after claim her life, still held the thought and found the energy to send me this.
A transcript of caring.