I don’t watch much Oprah but I love that side of her that is wisewoman/healer/prophet. The other night as I drifted off to sleep, I heard her saying this: what I would tell my younger self is ‘it’s okay. Don’t stress. Everything’s going to be okay.’ I want to tell you that. I want to tell me that, too. “It’s okay. Every time you cry for your loved one who seems gone, it’s okay. Every morning you try to get out of bed but the sadness yanks you back, it’s okay. Every time you feel jealous of someone who has their aunt, their mama, their brother standing by their side, it’s okay.” How’s that feel when I say that to you? For me, those words are like a mother’s hand rubbing warm Vicks across my chest. Soothing even if it’s temporary and will wash off in the morning. At least it’s something. It’s okay.