I've dealt with death before but never of someone this close in age.
So for my therapy, I've been baking. I mean, I'm always baking something, but it was different now. I didn't rush through it so I could fit something more into my day. I took my time and tried a new recipe. Same idea as an old one, but new approach. I took my time and tried to process things.
My family was all upstairs so I couldn't have music playing. It was hard to get into my little baking bubble that I'm usually in, but in a way it helped, because I needed to focus more and pay attention.
I don't know if this is making any sense to those who are reading, but yeah. When I finished the cake, I couldn't believe how much of my heart and soul went into making it. When I was tired of crying, my heart went to something else. Something that will bless my friends tonight as we gather for out writers party before spring break.
Cousins; Britni, Dante, myself.
I lift my eyes unto the hills, where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of Heaven and earth.
- Psalm 121:1