The wold was full of us, the leftovers and the leavers, the bereaved and the broken.
Bridget cried for the leavers and the left. For the people, like herself, grimly forsaking what few precious gifts they would ever get. She cried for Bailey, for Tibby, for the resolute clump of cells...
TRUST that if they strayed from your path – they DO NOT belong there. Not everybody can go where you’re going.
