Every year, on this day I think of the time that I ate so many pancakes I was fit to burst. I remember your amazed faces as I sat and ate my 7th in a row and I remember the joy and excitement that you had about the day itself. I remember and I feel. I miss you and I hate that now all I have is a memory. It isn’t physical, it isn’t here and now, it is then and it is past. And sometimes I hate it.
She no longer exists.
Just like the person she probably misses no longer exists in you.
Maybe it’s the memories you miss.
Not the person.
They say you know who is true when life gets hard.
The ones who stand forward are the ones who have always been there..
But sometimes, it’s the ones you least expect.
Not because you misjudged their character or their morals
But because they maybe aren’t with you in your every day lives.
All of these people, both the constant and the infrequent
Deserve an acknowledgement,
Some words of thanks.
Sometimes the people who show up
Are not the ones you would have expected.
They say it takes a village to raise a child…
I am that child,
and I am grateful, in this moment, for that village.
July is always a horrid month for me and mine.
Too many anniversaries bring feelings full of loss and despair for most of the month.
This month, in the midst of sadness, I have moved out of my shared accommodation and into my own place.
This month is bringing with it a reminder of what being free is, of what it feels like to be a strong and independent woman and an acknowledgement of who I am.
I am allowing myself to be sad but trying to pull myself out of wallowing. To see this month as something other than awful.
It is with this thought in mind that I wonder what next July will bring.
Perhaps, it is time to move past sadness and look for a way to celebrate…