Reading Time: 2 minutes It is hard to be thankful for pain when you consider all the moments you got to hold you kid and listen to her floating laugh echoing in the halls, which now ring only with the high-pitched, tinny whine that your ears pick up when there is only silence. It’s hard to be thankful for the times your mom cooked you your favorite dinner as you stand in the kitchen, now empty forever, helping load boxes of items you have to do, well, something with. It’s hard to be thankful for the pain as you tell your best friend and confidant, “I finally got rid of his toothbrush today. I guess this makes it real.”