This March I turn 56. And for the first time, it is not a birthday I welcome. It will be the first one without my husband since we married over 26 years ago. My daughter is leaving home and moving to Colorado five days later. And I look in the mirror these days and feel old.
Sometimes we need a hand to hold. Even though we know we can do it, are strong enough, smart enough to do it, sometimes, we somehow, just don't. Sometimes we need a little extra help, to get us over a hump, a bump. To give us a hug, or a sweet smile, to hold our hand