for matt and jordan and the woman in the tree

. . . I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff—I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That’s all I’d do all day. I’d just be the catcher in the rye and all.

The thing with kids is, if they want to grab for the gold ring, you have to let them do it,

sending you love and light and letting you go.

x = x

On Friday I cried on the phone with one of my survivor friends because some days it is just hard all over again. Most days have been good, so it catches me off guard. I tell her it is not fair. It is not fair to have this to deal with when this is not mine. I think that I can't quite convince myself that it is true. _ ___ ________ __ __ ___. Is that true? I can't quite convince myself that there is not a chance that it is not true. She tells me it is true. It feels like someone else's truth.

MP says that whether or not I know if _ ___ ________ __ __ ___ the process is the same. Well, okay, then, I guess it just does not matter if. I guess I will continue to deal with this when this is not mine and not even know if. My grief about not knowing catches me off guard. This again. My grief about the unfairness of not knowing, and knowing.