Life is so surreal in this time.
I sit, salt stinging my face, hand shaking on keys to share grief that isn't mine. I have no claim to it. I've never seen the face of the woman who stood at the ocean, observing that when she had put on the clothes she was wearing, her tiny son was still alive. I've never met her and never will, but I have shared her beautiful eloquent thoughts as she bravely offered them so publicly, so nakedly.
My tears will stop in a short while and I'll go upstairs to fill my life with stupid, beautiful details. How if I'm relaxed I think Bu's snores are endearing, how Emsy likes to sleep with her feet higher than her body like I do when my back is sore- and I'll wake up with her feet on my chest or neck.
But Kate won't have trivia and mundane life for quite a while. She has two beautiful sons to bless her and fill her, and I hope they keep her grounded and comforted and strong.
Blessed be, Kate and Liam and family.