Well it has happened. Another year has passed. I survived it. This time last year I was lamenting 40 and how impossible it was that I was alive at 40 while Daniel was forever 35. I still feel that angst...he's 35 and each year I grow older in spite of it. I remember thinking I couldn't possibly live another year without him...how is it possible that I've lived 5?
I think each birthday, in addition to being a part of the death march, is a reminder to me that I'm still really here. I'm still moving forward, still living this new and totally unexpected life. Even if the idea was once unthinkable, it's getting easier to accept.
It's not easy every day, and sometimes I have to make a conscious effort. But I do it. I'm here. I love the metaphor Michele used for the mosaic of her life. The broken pieces picked up, put back together, and although totally different from the original, still a potential masterpiece in their new form. The idea of rebuilding something beautiful from the pieces left after such tragedy is inspiring.
I am trying to do it. I hope I am successful. Today it feels pretty good. I'll keep you posted on what tomorrow brings.