“We take it for granted that our lives are ordinary because we are living them, yet every moment of each of our stories is unique. No one else lives them for us, no one else can feel them as we do. Each of us leaves our mark on history, even if it passes unnoticed and fades unremarked.”
I’m sitting here in tears tonight, exhausted and a little fragile as I am rather unwell, but that is not why the tears. No, the tears fall because of a realisation that has taken a few decades too many to sink home. I can be terribly dense sometimes. An idiot, really.
I had a message in my inbox tonight that made me cry. It comes from a man in the US whom I will probably never meet and yet whose life and dreams have touched and intertwined with mine for a little while along the way and who has become a friend. It was sent with love, in a momentary respite from a very busy days cooking, shopping and cleaning in preparation for the evening’s festivities, telling me how he and his wife are hosting a family gathering tonight. “I know that while there may be 23 folks here physically…
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