And while you’re celebrating, someone somewhere is suffering.
There’s very little grace that accompanies mourning, I’d say. Plenty of grit with it, paired with sorrow. That’s the natural bit.
But Grace. She’s enviable in my opinion. How she holds her head high while most hold theirs low. I envy her. She grabs tissue for others while tears simultaneously stream down her face. Oh, Grace.
And then there’s Grit. Courageous enough to cry–wail even, openly. Falling in laps continuously to exhale, moan, and weep. Flailing arms high in question and bowing at reality. You’re so over the top, Grit. I know you well.