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“ They were the people who claimed you. In good, in bad, in parts or in whole, they were the ones who showed up, who stayed. It wasn't just about blood but something bigger. Our family of origin, the family we created, and the groups you moved through while all of this was happening: friends, sometimes even strangers. None of them perfect, and we couldn't expect them to be. You can't make any one person your world. The trick was to take what each could give you and build your world from…


Maybe due to the dark coloring, this reminds me of Christina Rossetti's 'When I am dead, my dearest': When I am dead, my dearest, sing no sad songs for me; plant thou no roses at my head, nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me with showers and dewdrops wet; and if thou wilt, remember, and if thou wilt, forget...