My comments from the Poem Mondays Child. Antigone, C., and Coggy, I hate that our kids had far to go. What's even more strange is this:
When I was 8 and my sister 16 my family was fostering "Thursdays child," it was a segment on t.v. called just that. She did have far to go and yet she made it or so it seems. We no longer keep in touch but last I heard she was doing well.
Now, I look at Thursdays child not as one who you foster but one who you've lost. Maybe that's what is really behind it. Her mother lost her not in the same way that we lost our children but lost just the same. Note: probably not wise of me to compare this but it is late and I'm just thinking outloud! I just think it's stupidly strange how damned poems seem to creep in and take on a different meaning as we go through our lives.
Now, on another note, tomorrow is a new day! Yes, I know, all my days are the same. Yet tomorrow is a new one so maybe just maybe it will be a bit better!