The older I get, the deeper my appreciation of what it must’ve taken for my mother to keep going. What it must’ve taken for her to choose to bring me into the world after the unfathomable losses, what it must’ve taken for her to insist on choosing life.
Some days it takes a real act of will to remind myself that if I’m to really honor my familial legacy, I too must keep choosing; bitterness and despair or compassion and active hope.