If you see me stopped at a stop light and I'm belting out a show tune at performance level assuming that nobody is looking (especially you), you won't know.
If you see me making small talk at the hair salon about last night's (amazing) Glee episode, you won't know.
If you run into me grabbing my Sugar Free Hazelnut Skim Latte with no froth (and of course being self deprecating about the fact that I can't possibly put on a full face of makeup, but I have the most high maintenance drink ever made) at a coffee shop in the neighborhood, you won't know.
If you spot me awkwardly juggling the three kids of mine that you can see (and praying to God, perhaps loudly that I don't drop one of the two that can't walk), you won't know.
Unless you read this blog, you won't know, that my biggest is not my oldest, he's not my first. You won't know that today is the beginning of a whole lot of emotional and pain filled days. Six years ago today, I had hung all my hopes on a little girl who was growing inside of me. My first, my "oldest - who never got to grow old", a little girl who we were expecting any day now because just 32 weeks prior, the Doctor told us that March 16 was the estimated date of her arrival. Six years ago today, I was crawling out of my skin wanting to hold this little baby in my arms, and never knowing that I would only get to hold her for 109 days. Her birthday is now three days away, but I can recite for you almost every moment of the three days leading up to her birth...
So, now that you've read this blog, and you know, please be gentle. My heart is tender with this memory that is six years old, but is still so fresh.
That's part of my story. But everyone is walking around with something every moment that makes them a little fragile. Even if you don't know their story... be gentle with each other.