"There can never be any going back to what was. The broken pieces of your grief have become you. They speak of your strength, of your courage and they speak of you...the vulnerable you, the broken you, the loving you and the wonderful you"
Do you ever contemplate what would break you? How much could you take before your spirit was broken? I think the death of my Dad has broken me.
People equate getting up in the morning, showing up to work and faking conversation as being strong, but I think it's more of a masquerade to please everyone and fool yourself. If only they knew behind the mask the whole in my heart is just as big as the day he passed away, the sadness is all consuming even paralyzing at times and every day I discover another shattered piece of my old life that doesn't make sense anymore. I am not strong. I am not courageous. I am broken. I am changed. I have scars. I miss my Dad.
