Page 254 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

Then another.

Celebrate every inch.

Never measure today's progress against yesterday's loss.

Somewhere during morning rounds, Dr. Lawson smiles as I finish working with another patient.

"I've noticed something."

I glance up from my chart. "What's that?"

"You never tell them what they've lost."

He pauses. "You always remind them what they still have."

His words stay with me the rest of the day.

Because I suddenly realize...

I'm giving everyone else the grace I refuse to give myself.

Mom calls every evening.

Sometimes we talk for twenty minutes.

Sometimes only five.

She never asks if I've changed my mind.

She never mentions Jamie.

Instead, she asks if I've eaten. Whether I'm sleeping. If I remembered to buy groceries.

Normal questions. The kind that somehow make everything feel a little less lonely.

Before hanging up one night she says quietly,

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Another pause.

"Annette?"

"Yes?"

"You don't have to earn being loved."

The line goes silent.

She doesn't explain.

She doesn't need to.

***

Week Three…