Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on guess.
If I were to guess, you decided to leave when you knew she was gone.
If I were to guess, you picked it, you needed to control it.
If I were to guess, you're pissed that it's all over.
You felt you had a lot more story to write, a lot more you wanted to finish.
And you're offended by something we did or didn't do.
But you're also proud of how much we all showed up for you.
If I were to guess, you're fighting with your father.
And laughing with your sister.
And hugging your mother.
And looking out for the little ones you left here.
If I were to guess, there were very few that got you.
And even those that did, struggled with your decisions.
But those that did also realized how complicated you were, how hard you tried, and how scared you were of this world.
If I were to guess, it doesn't hurt anymore.
And you're no longer scared.
You get it now, something finally clicked.
And although you're not okay with the final chapter, you're proud of the whole book.
If I were to guess, you see that now. You can see it all at once instead of paragraph by paragraph.
If I were to guess, it's going to be okay, and we're going to be okay, because you taught us how to be okay.