Sometimes I look back and wonder how I got through certain things. Honestly, it’s a bit of a blur, those tough stretches. You just put one foot in front of the other, don’t you? That’s what it feels like. The quiet moments, later on, are when it all sinks in. You realize how much strength you actually had. It’s not about being fearless. Never was. It’s more about finding that little flicker of hope, even when everything feels dim. And then holding onto it. Tight. There’s a resilience in us, I think, a deep well that we don't always know is there until we need it. And then, somehow, it shows up. Always grateful for that. It’s a gift, really, this ability to keep going. A quiet kind of miracle.