I deeply regret for driving my friends at By Common Consent into a corner. I relied solely on logic when I should have been kind. I also regret suspecting the wrong people of ending the discussion.
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There Is Work Enough To Do
It was May of 1993. I was 7 months pregnant with my second daughter, and it was my most dreaded of days: Mother’s Day. I scrambled to get my three year old daughter ready for church, and my then husband, Jeff, gave me his usual Mother’s Day gift: nothing. He…
Hellmut, that is very big of you.
It’s also a little bit cryptic, especially that last bit. It is my deepest hope that we don’t start a new fight while trying to figure out who/what you’re talking about. 😉
I regret all the regrets. Regrets suck. I understand remorse, but I hope you are feeling better now. <3
Thank you, Wry! I heart you back.
Thank you for the suggestion, Chanson. If I could figure out what to do about it, I would but right now, I am at a loss.