As usual, no one's ever around when you need them.
When you look into your mother’s eyes, you know that is the purest love you can find on this earth.
When someone is in your heart, they're never truly gone. They can come back to you, even at unlikely times.
We need to forgive ourselves. For all the things we didn't do. All the things we should have done. You can't get stuck on the regrets of what should have happened.
Have you found someone to share your heart with? Are you giving to your community? Are you at peace with yourself? Are you trying to be as human as you can be?
Parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them. They move on. They move away. The moments that used to define them - a mother's approval, a father's nod - are covered by moments of their own accomplishments. It is not until much later, as the skin sags and the heart weakens, that children understand; their stories, and all their accomplishments, sit atop the stories of their mothers and fathers, stones upon stones, beneath the waters of their lives.
Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.
Each of us embodies, in a particular tale and clothed in the garments of time & place, universal truth and everlasting life.
Use your imagination until your big dream feels so familiar that its manifestation is the next logical step.
One does simply what one can in order to apply what one knows.
And I thought my loss was not, certainly, the end of the world, but to lessen the enthusiasm of those young people who were signed up, I thought that was tragic.