I hope I've found the right road
This is the last week I'll be able to say: "This time last year he was alive." A year will have passed this coming Sunday. Easter Sunday. A whole year.
Six months came quickly. A year is just unbelievable.
It's like riding an escalator and letting the black handrail glide under your fingers.
Trying to go down when it's going up gets very tiring. Eventually it feels like the right time to give up resisting and go in the direction you're being taken.
To put your hand on the guide rail and just trust that you're on the right road.