An anniversary.

A year ago today, my mother died. I've grieved over that in the year, reminded of her at various times (and what seemed like all of the time), but I think there's still more to do. I don't think I've fully comprehended what I've lost. I don't think I understand what I had or what I never had.

I can't tell whether I'm putting it off or just taking my time. A year seems like a long time to let go until I remember how long I had what's gone.

I try to remember that lots of people in the world have lost their parents. It doesn't seem possible that this horrendous state of affairs is as common as it is, but I'm hardly alone in having had to say goodbye to my mother. I'm actually kind of lucky that I got to say goodbye when she was still alive to hear it. It's hard to feel that luck sometimes, but I am still grateful for the good things about her death.

I don't think that we as a family could have done any better. She died at home, surrounded by people who loved her. Her mother held her hand as she passed. We should all be so lucky when our time runs out.