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I stayed up way too late talking to my girlfriend.  The conversation ended with her telling me this:

"I love my mom.  I really do.  One of the many things that I love about my mom is that she knows when to go.  Many people are praised for "sticking it through", but my mother wasn't afraid of new beginnings.  She knew when to fold.  She knew, when she had given her best, that there was nothing more to give.  What else can you give when you've given your best?  My mom tried over and over again.  She lost houses to divorces, mistakes, whatever.  She started again.  She was in love, married and had to start over again. And again.  Sometimes we're so afraid of endings that we forget that behind them are beginnings."

And so it is.

Sometimes, I get so stuck on defeat, I can't seem to let go, even when my best hasn't proven to be enough.

Then I remember a line from one of my favorite poems where I've always vowed to "accept defeat with a grace of a woman..."

I didn't go to work today.  I feel all guilty, but realize I deserve a day to sort this all out.

Love...