There are too many hard decisions in my life right now. Many aren’t even mine. Yet, I’ve been asked to help make them, which implicates me, makes me complicit, makes me feel like a failure and a small child who wants nothing more than a closet to sob in.
But instead I will sit here, bedside, back straight, and help to check the boxes, sign and date each form. I will be the strong one now. It’s my turn, the least I can do.