I still have moments of disbelief, but I do acknowledge that fear is strong, that it takes a great deal of will and faith to overcome.
That being said, I still grieve.
I am, however, lighting a fire under this grief, using this grief, this anger, as kindling. I'm inspired. I'm inspired because there's nothing else to do. I'm here, I'm willing, I'm strong. I'm reaching for hope because what other choice is there? Hope is light, hope has a fierce fury to it--it cannot be extinguished and, indeed, can serve as a light, passed one to another, in the dark.
Despair is easy, but hope takes fire. It is, as wise Emily Dickinson once wrote, the thing with feathers.
We'll catch a ride on our way out of the flames.