I know one thing after living the worst week of my life: we tell stories so we can live the worst weeks of our lives.
Our (meaning Aimee's and my) friends and I have told many stories this week--too many for me to account. Those stories have saved me, bit by bit. Those stories have propped me and held me and kept me moving through the most unimaginable brokenness.
We tell stories because we are human. Because we hurt. Because we love. Because, in the end, without stories, the vast, unfeeling universe might crush us.
But take heart.
I have a story to tell. Several of them. And together, we will hurt, and love, and keep telling stories.
I plan to share some of my favorites about my wife this year.
Write hard. Love hard. Live a good, full life.