Standing in the kitchen doing bad yoga poses while waiting for the tea kettle to whistle. Staring at the tips of my fingers because the rest of the room seems to be spinning. And my brother finding me there later that night, legs pulled up staring at my bare feet on the ugly tile. I know I went in there for a reason but I can’t think of what it was when he asks. It’s where I do my best thinking though, so it only makes sense that it is there that I find the strength to message her. I pray she hears the heart behind those words and I go to bed. My oldest is up sick… sweating and shaking and I eventually give up on sleep and hold her till she is better and sleeping. It’s the warmest night we have had in weeks but I am cold. Deep down cold. Socks and sweat pants and two blankets can’t stop the shaking. In the morning things seem less scary. As my brother put it, I no longer hear the things going bump in the night. I light a candle because it seems right and I breathe pr...