We can’t say that we’re raising Celia. We had wide open spaces in our hearts for her to grow up in, but we won’t get to see her to maturity. Now, we can only try to keep her comfortable. And most of the time, lately, she seems to be.
But when she isn't comfortable, or when we allow ourselves to think beyond the moment, her disease seems to raze us. We try not to let it destroy us, don’t want it to tear us to pieces.
And it won’t, not completely.