I read a nice poem relating to me that grief for no real reasons at the time we’re not going to be another’s.
I’m reminded of how I’m to be happy in what I have not grieved by what I want.
I face an old can of soup and many a day til my next limited joys exploring yum. I have an old can of cherry lime seltzer going and I’ve just inherited a Keurig with much coffee… Or I have much of what I need. And love exists to say I’m still saddened as I viewed you then as now a prize no not to be had only, just in who you are. I have that…. It becomes a “happy”