Sara pointed out, and Crista confirmed,
March 5 is six months.
Crazy that I can't do the math from Sept 5 to today. Time is out of sync. Grief doesn't flow with the timeliness of the tides. Nor does it have continental boundaries.
Journeying is my path of discovery. Adventure does not define it. There is pleasure on the journey, but not yet joy, people, not companionship. No returning to known shores.
Everything hurts, particularly the parts that brought joy. A bittersweet that fights the familiar path. Not yet ready for trail blazing. Exposed to bareness. Grateful to feel.
This presidents weekend is a year from the date of the diagnosis. I had no idea that this would be an anniversary to anticipate. The replay started Friday. Maybe I will be released tonight.
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