Somewhere between closing the metaphorical door of any traumatic situation and getting sucked into the constant vortex of pain and victimhood, there’s a middle place of relative contentment. Of just understanding that it is what it is.
Facebook just shared some memories with me today. Not that I needed Facebook to tell me where I was two years ago and what my friends were tagging me in on their status updates that day.
You’ve been posting each one of these milestones at the same rate as runners post their Runtastic stats. You’ve filled my newsfeed with recipes involving Passover ingredients only available in Guam. And seriously? You need to stop.
This tumor with all its power to put him into a world of darkness – a world of black and white – cannot kill the colors in his soul. It cannot touch what Coby can still share with the world.
So here goes. My list of things I learned running in a marathon (or half-marathon).