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 another.
Go.
It's another day, another week, another month of isolation.
It's another way of trying to figure out what to do, what to continue doing, what to do now.
It's another long walk. It's another home work out, it's another cup of coffee, another glass of wine. It's another day of all of us together, it's another day of me trying to find a moment alone, it's another day.
It's another whirlwind of emotions. It's another day of being really thankful for how lucky and privileged I am. It's another roller-coaster ride of figuring out how to make it stop feeling so daunting, stop being so worried. It's another way of me trying to make plans and to dos when you can't. It's another way to plan and wanting needing a plan when you can't. It's another day.
It's another day of lots of talking and lots of family time and lots of eating. It's another day of being totally fine with it because we all need some grace. It's another day of letting go and trying so so hard to find normal, new normal, what another day will look like when they all look exactly the same but so so different.
Stop.
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