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by
Louise Penny
Read between
September 20 - September 22, 2021
I was wrong. I’m sorry. I don’t know. I need help.
Alcohol stole dignity and friends and family and livelihoods before finally taking the life. Alcohol was a thief. And often a murderer.
Myrna understood how damaging it was to compare pain. To dismiss hurt just because it wasn’t the worst.
“Is it true? Is it kind? Does it need to be said?”
being still and doing nothing were two different things.
How often we made our worst fears come true, by behaving as though they already were.

