sentence.
Not for publication.
Not for approval.
Just one thing that is true.
Even if it is about toast.
It helped save my life.
A few weeks later, Angela told me about a bereavement group that met Thursday evenings in the back room of the public library under terrible fluorescent lights with surprisingly good coffee.
I almost didn’t go.
I went because she offered to stay with the boys.
And a person who turns down a hospital monitor for you has earned a yes.
There were eight people, a facilitator,
