“Grief is a house.
Where the chairs have forgotten how to hold us, the mirrors how to reflect us, the walls how to contain us.
Grief is a house that disappears each time someone knocks at the door or rings the bell, a house that blows into the air at the slightest gust, that buries itself deep in the ground while everyone is sleeping.
Grief is a house where no one can protect you, where the younger sister will grow older than the older one. Where the doors no longer let you in or out”—The sky is everywhere (via minidlamini)
“1) do your laundry.
2) drink chamomile tea. with honey. no, don’t think about the calories,
3) get your baby photos out. and your kindergarden drawings. first grade notebooks. remember who you wanted to be back then. what’s changed?
4) watch your favorite show from when you were 11. no earphones. volume up.
5) spice girls. dance-it-out.
6) take your camera and go for a walk. take photos of people you’ll never see again. try to capture moments, smiles, real ones. how many have you got?
7) watch kids ice skate.
8) join them.
9) tell someone you miss them. mean it.
10) get your laundry out of the dryer. put your pjs on while they’re still warm.
11) hug your hot water bottle.
12) watch: before sunset.
13) you will be ok. you will get through today.”—m.v., thirteen ways to make a bad day better. (via findingwordsforthoughts)
i think about all I’ve sacrificed. Friends I’ve lost. People i no longer see. New spirits in my presents, ones that will also have a season and those that are there for the journey. Those that understand. Those that love. This dream of mines is quit the journey. A constant season of discomfort. Something worth what will be. Someone mentioned to me today "God sees what you’ve sacrificed"