One and a half...
One year, six months...that's how long it's been since my mother died. Tomorrow is her birthday, the second I've spent without her.
And...I'm okay.
There's sadness, but those moments are few and far between these days. There's anger...a lot of anger, but not over her death, but over her life, and the life we lived together. But beyond that, there's happiness, and joy and a life worth living, that I didn't have eighteen months ago.
I once stated I could barely see the light though the darkness, now...I can hardly see the darkness for the light and it's the best treasure I could have, living without the constant grief. I will never forget her, I will never stop missing her, but I don't have to be afraid of that, to be afraid of drowning in my grief.
Tomorrow will be hard, there will be moments when I stop cold, unable to breath through the pain, but it won't destroy me, and I will survive it...I will be stronger for it, just as I have been for each day that had brought me here, just as I will be for each day that comes.
My mother taught me a lot in life...but she taught me what was most important in her death, and I will celebrate that tomorrow, as I sit, curled up with a slice of cake, remembering what is worth remembering, and forgetting that which is better laid to rest.
And...I'm okay.
There's sadness, but those moments are few and far between these days. There's anger...a lot of anger, but not over her death, but over her life, and the life we lived together. But beyond that, there's happiness, and joy and a life worth living, that I didn't have eighteen months ago.
I once stated I could barely see the light though the darkness, now...I can hardly see the darkness for the light and it's the best treasure I could have, living without the constant grief. I will never forget her, I will never stop missing her, but I don't have to be afraid of that, to be afraid of drowning in my grief.
Tomorrow will be hard, there will be moments when I stop cold, unable to breath through the pain, but it won't destroy me, and I will survive it...I will be stronger for it, just as I have been for each day that had brought me here, just as I will be for each day that comes.
My mother taught me a lot in life...but she taught me what was most important in her death, and I will celebrate that tomorrow, as I sit, curled up with a slice of cake, remembering what is worth remembering, and forgetting that which is better laid to rest.