I was filling out a survey this morning. One of those silly, what is your crayon color, kind of surveys, and then a question stuck out:
Question:Do you have a special talent?
Answer: Survival. I was born at six months. My parents were told I would die.
I didn't think too hard about it, when I wrote it, but as I went back to it later, I saw how simple, profound, and most importantly true that statement actually is.
And that's what I've been doing. Surviving. Every day since October 3, 2009, when Nevada died. I was and am still devastated.
And just when I turn the smallest of corners, my dad dies on January 21st.
True, sometimes I really just want it all to fade away, and I not have to think about any of it. A welcome escape from the pain that radiates my every thought.
But, I'm here.
Breathing, living, and mostly just trying to be. Trying to find my way without two of the strongest people I've ever met, gone within months of each other. I
When I wake up in the morning, I realize that I only have two choices:
I'm no quitter. I survivied against all odds and I'm not stopping now.
ps-Crayon color is my title of blog today.