it will not be easy, but when these days pass, there will be very good memories left.

What survives of a hard year is almost never the hardship itself.

The detail of it goes soft surprisingly fast, faster than seems right.

What stays sharp is oddly specific and usually involves other people. The friend who brought entirely the wrong soup and stayed four hours anyway. The nurse who used your first name. The driver who would not take the fare.

None of that makes the year worth it. Nothing has to be worth it. It only means the record you eventually keep of this will not be the one you are keeping today.