So today should have been celebrating twenty-six years of married life. That’s a year for every letter in the alphabet. For some reason my mind finds funny connections like that.

Instead (as I’ve explained many times) it’s sort of back to one. Maybe. And celebrate is probably the wrong term, perhaps commemorate or recognize. I don’t know a lot of things, I do know how I feel. I do know how painful I have made things for my family, and no amount of words or trinkets or Hallmark cards will fix any of that.

Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda.

I’m determined to live in the present, to focus on the joy I have found and share it with others. Words won’t change history, nor will regret. Forgiveness is almost impossible, but so important.

I’m still breathing, and with that I can go anywhere. Everyone deserves to feel happy. Everyone deserves a little peace. One more thing we all have in common: we can only provide those things for ourselves.