I’ve just returned to work after taking a few weeks vacation. I needed some quiet time as the date Nov. 2 loomed. This was the one-year anniversary of the death of my 22-year-old son and if I could have crawled in a cave somewhere and avoided any pain associated with that date, that would have been fine with me.
But that isn’t the way it works.
If you try to hide from it, it waits for a chance to jump out and knock you down when you’re not expecting it.
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