this is water.

let me be

‚Äúdear god,” she prayed,

“let me be something every minute of every hour of my life.

let me be gay;
let me be sad.
let me be cold;
let me be warm.
let me be hungry
have too much to eat. let me be

inner beauty can fade, too

conjure images

before they had kids, if asked to conjure images of parenthood they would have said things like

“reading in bed,”

and

“giving a bath,”

and

“running while holding the seat of a bicycle.”

// parenthood contains such moments of warmth and intimacy, but isn’t them.

it’s cleaning up. the great bulk of family life involves no exchange of love, and no meaning, only fulfillment.

not the fulfillment of feeling fulfilled,

but of fulfilling that which now falls to you.

:: jonathan safran foer

from
here i am

each other’s pain

in sickness and in sickness. that is what i wish for you. don’t seek or expect miracles. there are no miracles. not anymore. and there are no cures for the hurt that hurts most. there is only the medicine of believing each other’s pain, and being present for it.

 

:: jonathan safran foer

from
here i am

you will eat

you will eat,
you will laugh at stupid things,
you will stay up all night just to see what it feels like,
you will fall painfully in love,
you will have babies of your own,
you will doubt and regret and yearn and keep a secret.
you will get old and decrepit,
and you will die,
exhausted from all that living.

that is when you get to die.

not now.