There are times when I’ve felt like Rocky Balboa. When I’ve been knocked down to the canvas, bloodied, staggered. On one knee, summoning the strength to get back up again. And again. And again.

That thought, that image, brings tears to my eyes. The idea of staying down on the canvas, referee counting me out, never enters my mind.

Living another day, living every day, does enter my mind. And the thought never leaves.