For the old memories that still return on their own, a guide and journal to meet them more gently than the years have taught.

For the hard talk you run in your head twenty ways before it happens, and for telling that apart from the thinking that gets you ready.

For the open hours that arrived when the days stopped being full, and for what the mind does with the room it did not used to have.

For the mind that starts turning things over once the house goes quiet, and for the three in the morning version that always looks worse than the day.

For the hours spent going back over choices you cannot unmake, and for the difference between learning from a life and being punished by it.

For the love that outlasts the power to keep anyone safe, and for carrying it with a little less weight.