When the whole world hurts
The colors around my house are crisp and bright as the leaves change, falling bright yellow and orange onto the still green grass. No endless gray dust or rubble to be seen.
The colors around my house are crisp and bright as the leaves change, falling bright yellow and orange onto the still green grass. There’s toys strewn around my yard, signs of life and children being children. No endless gray dust or rubble to be seen.
This poem shared by a friend of mine on Facebook highlighted the stark reality of my week. I’ve been trying to engage with the new war between Israel and Hamas with Gaza caught in the middle as obliquely as I can because if I read too many details, I’ll become so bogged down, I may no longer function.
What are we supposed to do with a newsfeed full of the horrors of war? Just before sitting down to write this, I was outside on a 70 degree sunny day, low humidity, watching our new puppy Bertha attack my kids' feet as they giggled and enticed her to chase them.
I shared earlier on Instagram that I’ve been grumpy at the sleep deprivation th…
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