Things always looked different the next day. Skies seemed bluer, the grass was greener. The worries of yesterday were magically reduced to a manageable size, and brand new ideas and thoughts were born. Oddly enough, Mom’s words were like seeds planted in the night, now growing and blossoming inside me. Jay was very much alive. He was healthy, a bit fragile, but more alive than many kids my age who lived life mindlessly. If anything, this stupid disorder made him more alive. Made me more alive. I wanted to make memories with Jay— live each day to the fullest, laugh until my belly hurt, cry at sad movies with him, and watch the sunrise and the sunset whenever I could. Life was a gift, not to be taken for granted. It could be here one day and gone the next, or it could go on for a very long time.
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