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already done the impossible, loving me when I didn’t believe I could be loved. Awakening something in me I thought forever lost.
leaving is always better than being left.
And I wonder why the ones who
need love the most are so difficult to give it to.
you never know someone until you travel with them, how they behave when away from the familiar.
once someone saves you, there’s no turning back, even when you don’t want to be saved.
there are things
you say and promise to those you love, even when you know you can’t see them through.
Sometimes the things people don’t say hurt worse than the things they do. It’s just the way of grief and loss. People think they’re doing you a favor by avoiding the tougher subjects, but the silence only makes the absence bigger, deafening.
What you went through . . . no one should ever have to go through that. But you and your sister, the two of you could’ve figured out a way to work it out. You need each other. You always have.
she was delighted to read that blueberries symbolize eternal optimism. She’d smile. “The blueberries and stars aligned.”
I also looked up blueberries. They meant a weakening of spirit, not always followed by a complete recovery.
Back then, the names were familiar, but now we’re all strangers, and everything is off, especially us.
I don’t even remember. I came home and drowned myself in one of my concoctions that promised to mend a broken heart.” “Does that kind of tea really exist?” She laughs. “Yes. It’s called vodka.”
“Mom’s final act,” she’d say whenever the subject came up, “was giving us each other to love.”
No one asked her to do it, but I expected her to help me through, squeeze the pain away, but she didn’t.
“I’d do it all over again.” I turn away from her as she prattles on. “Except this time, I wouldn’t make it so easy for you. I wouldn’t let you go to Florida. I’d follow you, make it impossible for you to stay away.”
“I’ll always defend you. That’s what sisters do.”
How can I forgive her when I haven’t yet been able to forgive myself?
“I don’t need you to fight for me,” I say, shaking, dirt mixing with the streaks of tears falling down my face. “I just want you to leave me alone.”
“I just can’t do that.”
“If relationships were easy, Avery, they probably wouldn’t be worth saving.”
and I thought, Tell him. Tell him right now. Tell him before he loves you longer and harder. Tell him before it’s too late to go back. Too late to fix. But I didn’t. And here we are, this monumental thing still tearing us apart.
It probably never occurred to me that my father might be sad. That he might wander into his empty room at night and cry himself to sleep. Because I didn’t see it, it didn’t happen. And since I didn’t feel it, he couldn’t experience it either.
If there’s anything I taught you girls, it’s that roots grow strong when they’re cared for.
“Being strong . . . it doesn’t always mean being tough. It means letting those terrible feelings in, not pushing them away. It’s letting yourself feel all of it.”
“Mistakes don’t make you a bad person, Avery. They make you complex and human. Own them. Or the only person you hurt is you.”
I begin to understand more and more what it means to be a parent. It’s hoping for the best while advising and consoling, knowing there are never guarantees. It’s saying the same thing over and over again until it sticks. Never getting tired. Never giving up. And it’s never walking away.
My sister, my pseudo-mother, the one who did all those things my own mother couldn’t.
your garden’s growth is a lot like life. First, you need a vision for it. A plan. What do you want it to look like? Then you need a strong foundation. That starts with rich, healthy soil. For you, that means education and good habits, prioritizing. Preparation is key.”
“Your garden and dreams require an investment of time,” he continues. “You’ll have to be patient . . . learn to trust the process. And above all else, heed this advice. Much like life, your garden is going to face unforeseen conditions. Temperature. Wind. Soil. Water. You’ll have to manage your expectations, accept that some things are beyond your control.”
If this is the one thing keeping you apart, let it be the one thing to bring you back together.
Missing someone you’ve loved and lost doesn’t come
with a roadmap. There’s no knowing when the ache will creep in, knocking you flat.
holding on to those you’ve lost means you’re living in the past. And if you’re living in the past, you’re not really living.
we began to feel close again. I regret how I treated her, how I
turned my back on her and lost precious years, but sisters love wholly and unconditionally,
And I think of all the storms we weathered to land in this place. The broken dreams. The prayers we cast off into the sky. And I know now that endings bring forth new beginnings, and letting go means you’re alive.
