Sophie, tonight: “I’m so glad I’m your daughter. I just feel like we have a really special bond.”
Some women live lives hoping to hear that sort of beauty, and there it was, pressed gently into my hands and heart by a beautiful eight-year-old girl who makes me believe there must, there must be a God. I struggle with the paradox of such beauty and such sadness. I don’t know why they live side-by-side as uneasily as they do right now. I want to believe I will heal, in time.
But for tonight, I will take those words and wrap myself in them, and sleep, and sleep, until we all must begin again tomorrow, another flawed, funny, exasperating day.
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