I don’t know – that phrase repeated too much and the tears rolling out too often as if it’s routine. I don’t understand beginning to become a foreign phrase. Life – a word said over and over that it seems to become just that, a word, not someone’s place here. Lives you thought and knew mattered but are being taken away every second and again you begin to question reality and humanity and this place you call home or planet earth. You begin to wonder your place in this universe. You begin to think of all the wrongs, all the rights, all that could be, and try as hard as it might to remain hopeful and do your part. So may I leave you with a piece from Rupi Kaur as a remembrance of all we’ve lost and for the strength to fight because enough is enough, love is love, and a life is a life – valuable, worthy, and fragile: “I am sorry this world could not keep you safe, may your journey home be a soft and peaceful one.”


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