My husband is a marathoner. I’ve been there, at the finish line. With my children.
I know the moment.
The finish line is in sight. You have pushed through, carried on, conquered. There is a purity in the exuberance, the coming together of runner and cheerer, an exultation of body and will and spirit.
The triumph of that moment.
The cruelty of that moment.
It feels like hatred has won. And still I remind myself over and over and over.
Love will always overcome.