Swollen eyes after a night of crying. Too many little shoulders to hug, too little comfort I can provide. Hard to be supportive when your tears won't stop; are they trying to comfort me while I'm trying to do the same for them?
A daughter, a little sister, a best friend, a second mother... to me, a little girl I've watched grow from a quiet 8 years to a masked 25 years. Beautiful and funny, but held apart. Was respecting that wrong? Too late to ask.
John, older brother with such a strong need to mask as well, "Viking and African warrior heritage; it's in the bones. Mustn't show weakness." Careful negotiations required to comfort weakness that can't be shown. Obsessive worrying into the night induces nothing but insomnia. No good to be had there, but saying so is useless.
Anyone can enjoy a sunset, though. Everything's too glorious now, the weather, the sky -- is it a joke of the universe, or a gift? I will assume the latter.