June 16, 2003
Six months.
Depending on the event being marked, an anniversary can be a time for reflection and celebration, or a sobering reminder of the past. Sometimes anniversaries travel down both lanes with equal momentum. Today is one of those bittersweet anniversaries. It was six months ago today that my mom had her aneurysm. Obviously, a lot of things changed for our family on that day and certainly many things have changed since. Back in December we said goodbye to my mom, not once, but twice. We held our breath. We wiped our tears. We prayed our prayers. We trundled onward. And we waited. Surprising my logic and my reason — but not necessarily my faith — my mom pulled through everything fate tossed at her. My dad pulled through it all too. He’ll probably be embarrassed by my mentioning it, but it was his strength through the past six months that helped everyone else understand what happened and how to cope. My mom is still getting better, slowly. This week, she’s also back at home. Most importantly, it’s where she wants to be, not where she has to be.
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