Thoughts pulled from Quicksand

Find each other. Grieve together. Weave.

I peel my body out of bed this morning. The air is heavy, thick like quicksand. My body efforts to move through it, slowly, so it doesn’t pull me under. Step after step, I slow motion down the stairs toward the life that awaits me in the kitchen.

I hear my kids’ peeling laughter at the breakfast table as my doting partner makes them breakfast. I reach f…