R2 almost died on Friday. It was a bad seizure, and I don't really want to talk about it. Someday, I will be 80 and I will probably go to a convent and sit in silence for 3 days and then cry for 24 hours and then I will be okay. So that might have to wait until I'm 80.
You can't, you know. You can't dwell on it. So we just keep making peanut butter sandwiches and changing diapers and living. And it's good, it's so good, because he's alive and the babies (who are not babies) are healthy and today is a day to be thankful.
So I say thank you and I hold the deepest, saddest part at bay, because today is not a day for crying.