After both parents passed away, she became his sole guardian.
She worked two jobs.
Then three.
Then whatever she could find.
Delivery driving at night.
Retail during the day.
Sleep whenever possible.
The story sounded painfully familiar.
Not identical.
But familiar.
Because I knew what it felt like to survive instead of live.
Finally she shrugged.
“It is what it is.”
I recognized that sentence.
People say it when they’ve been carrying too much for too long.
I stood up.
