Six Months

Yesterday marked six months since we lost Mom. I've always had issues with how quickly time progresses, but this really hit me hard. Days, weeks, a few months are harder to track, but six months is half a year. It's easier to grasp six months; it's a more solid, quantifiable guidepost. And if you add to that the fact that it had been more than a year before that since I last saw my Mom, well, it makes it even harder. Even with six months to adjust, I still forget sometimes that she's really gone. I want to call and tell her about silly things that Harley does or how my new job is going. I want to show her the cute little knits I'm making, or ask questions about quilting ideas. I want her to try the yogurt I've made and see the new life I've built for myself.

But, like the song says, we can't always get what we want. We can't get more time, or go back in time and change the way things happened. And sometimes the hardest things to let go of are the things we aren't even holding anymore.

I'm still trying very hard to pull my life back together. I have accomplished so much in the past six months: I removed myself from a relationship that wasn't healthy; I found an amazing job that I love and that is rewarding; I moved closer to Dad and Joy and get to see them monthly; I am working on strengthening my personal beliefs and living a life of integrity. And as much as it pains me to say this, I don't know if I would have been able to make such sweeping changes if I hadn't had the transformative experience of losing Mom.

Dan Heumann said "10% of life is what happens to you, 90% is how you handle it." I've always believed this to be true and use this quote to help keep things in perspective: there may be parts of my life that are beyond my control, but my actions and reactions are always up to me.