Ice that formed on the trees above the parking lot of the church across the street from my mom’s house.
That parking lot was the scene of three siblings sitting quietly in a car, tapped in collectively by bluetooth, listening to a doctor, letting the options sink in, saying thank you and hanging up, then letting it all out in ugly, warm, acknowledgement that ends with strength and resolve.
These days are as good as we make em.
And we can make good days.