One Year
Sometimes love is for a moment. Sometimes love is for a lifetime. Sometimes a moment is a lifetime.
Today was easier than expected, but still sad. Our baby would have been about six months old now, spoiled rotten by her brothers and daddy and the center of the universe at our house. I don't notice every baby around anymore, torn between sadness and longing. The wound heals, a little more in the background as each day passes.
I am still grateful for my blessings, but mourn the ones I do not have as well.