See what had happened was my mind sometimes scrambles around like a mischievous monkey, as if I were still that messy little romantic who drove drunk in Nashville, and not someone’s mother, so stable and strong and together in the face of drama, secrets, deceptions, both large and small, and hormonal changes. Sometimes I still cry and cry, my nerves twisting and sprouting sharp barbs. But no broken glass, no new holes in the walls, no fleeting thoughts of endings. Tiny girl child punches and kicks me into realization. She is everything now, my strength, my faith, my hope.
Most of all, she is the reason to live right.