Another Year Has Passed

A year ago today, I walked into a hospital with all shreds of hope for a happy ending, gone.  I walked in quietly, stoic and silent.  I don't know how I even managed to do it, except that I did.  Isn't it like that for all things you imagine you could not bear?  You simply cannot fathom how you will possibly do it, until you have to.  And then you do.

A year ago today, Mo held my hand and cried, his heart so definitively broken.    My mother flitted around me, wanting so very much to help, and unsure of how to do so.  My sister sent texts, and waited for me to be ready to talk.  My stepfather just sat there, supporting me with his simple presence.  Despite all the people surrounding me, loving me, caring for me -- I was alone.  So very, very alone.  

A year later, so much has changed.  Superficially, things seem eerily similar as they did 12 months ago.  We are living in the same house, with our pups, and no children to call our own.  We've spent the year hanging out with friends and family, working, living.  

Surviving.

And yet.

I cannot even put into words how very different things are today.  Not only in my marriage, but in ME.  I doubt most people who know me would even notice a difference -- and yet I do.  I am stronger.  I am softer.  I am more vocal, and yet more gentle, with my ideas and beliefs.  I judge less, and I comfort more.  

I am not the same.

I have survived.

WE have survived. 

And for that tiny miracle, today I am grateful.