I remembered Cory today by looking at her artwork up on the wall in my office. And yesterday, on my way out to a meeting, I took a second to touch one of her paintings. She had used her fingers to paint this particular canvas, and I could follow her fingers with mine through the open frame. Just a minute to be with my girl, and remember how much she loved helping people, helping them even when she didn't realize that she was...just by the example that she set. She took her pain, and she made it into something beautiful.
I found one of her journals in Jacob's top bunk after the accident. She'd written about how the voices had been bothering her so much, and she just didn't know if she could handle getting sick again. She wrote about how much she worried for her future- graduating, going to college, finding a job- wanting it to be something that mattered- trying to help people like others had helped her.
I hope she knows how many lives she has touched. I hope.
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