​I don’t even know if I want to add to this because it speaks for itself. It’s a realistic view when you deal with a chronic illness. If I can end each day and say I tried my best, that is all that matters. Win the battles to survive the war.


  1. This is true in so many areas of life. We think there are end points, destinations, when really there isn’t. That’s something I’ve learned from the grief over my mom’s death. Recovery, grieving, they’re experiences. Journies. The road doesn’t end, it simply blends into new and different vistas as you travel.

    I’ve learned that instead of trying to look at maps and figure out how much further I have left to go, that I would rather enjoy the view as I travel. Life is too short to not enjoy it, even if it’s a rainy day.

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