Blue Mornings, Yellow Cardigan

Listen, everyone thinks courage is this big dramatic moment, but the bravest

thing I ever did was show up to a park bench at seven in the morning to sit next to a stranger

who fed pigeons. I was twenty-two and completely hollow inside. My mom had just

died and I couldn't sleep, so I'd walk. Every morning, same route,

past this tiny neighborhood park where this old man in a yellow cardigan would scatter breadcrumbs like

he was conducting an orchestra. One morning he just patted the bench. Didn't ask.

Didn't explain. I sat. We didn't talk for three weeks. Just sat there in

that weird blue light before sunrise, watching pigeons fight over crumbs like tiny dinosaurs.