Dearest God, thank you for helping me get through this difficult time. It’s been so very hard with the bronchitis and the food and the depression and the anger and the rage and the sadness that comes up with grief. I feel like an emotional mess all the fucking time. Will you please help me God. I’m tired of labels, so many years of I’m this and I’m that and I reject it all God for fuck’s sake, I’m not a robot.
My dearest sweet child. I feel your pain and I shed tears even when you can’t. I know what you have been through and I know how hard your try to be a loving responsible adult who struggles with being and acting in the world. Rest in my lap and bosom my little one. You are loved, cherished and adored. The answers are coming little one, they are coming. Please be patient. Keep dreaming, yes this is allowed and welcomed and urged. Keep laughing with little K and Knees, this is all happening wonderful and we are so thrilled.
Love God.
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