A Little Advice

Baby,

You need to look into going back to school.  Yeah, it will be a lot of money that we don't have, but it's still looking like it might be the best option.  Maybe we could major in psychology with a minor in English Lit.  Grief counseling is seeming like it's a more viable option than just about anything else.  Think about all the people who open up and talk to you about just about anything on their hearts.  Yeah, it would hurt to listen to a lot of it and you'd have to learn how to not cry over so many things, but maybe, just maybe it would be something we could actually do to help other people.  Think about all the pain you went through losing Heather and Zuni and Sarah and all the other people you love that you've lost.  Don't you think having someone walk alongside you through the mass of grief you felt would've been a huge godsend?  Sometimes people just need someone who is listening.

Or maybe we should major in English Lit and then become a prof who gets to explain to students every day why books and literature still matter.  You'd get to use the word catharsis on a regular basis again, and let's be honest, you love that word.

If you don't do either (or both) of these things, than we need to really look into publishing some of the rambling things you've already written.  Get that children's book published.  It's adorable, and you know it could sell.  You'd even get to dedicate it to Conor because, let's face it, when you wrote it, you wrote it for him.  And you'd also have to dedicate it to Maggie.  You promised her that your first book (because she believed it even when you didn't, still kinda don't) would be dedicated to her.  Or write one of those stories that gets stuck in your throat when you try to talk to someone about it.  Talk about the men you let close to your heart or the one you planned to marry or the one you hoped you would.  Or maybe stick to writing more children's books.  

Just do something, sweetheart. Otherwise all the things you've been holding onto or wishing for...they're never going to happen.  Make something happen.  It's time.

Love,

me