Some of my rage has been because of what was denied to my girl, who did not live the long, happy life you automatically expect and wish for your child. For instance, occasionally, I would reread a well-loved book that Cory never read or discover a new one, published since her death, and that bitter bile would rise in my throat just realizing that Cory did not get to experience it.
It just occurred to me, that if Cory is in a place where she wants for nothing and needs nothing, she is probably being read to right now from whatever book happens to strike her fancy, and perhaps the voice she is hearing in her head right now, instead of being cruel and unkind like the ones she was subjected through throughout her mental illness, is my voice reading to her- one of our dual joys since her babyhood.
This thought brings me peace, and I needed to capture it on paper, and then share with you- because anything good that you discover in life, becomes even more precious when you can share it with a friend.
Guys, I'm on a roll.
More smile than face.
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