trying this one more time…

Eight years

In the past eight years so much has happened.

  • I graduated high school
  • I got a tattoo
  • I moved away for the summer
  • I started college.
  • I had my own first scary medical experience.
  • My Dad had cancer.
  • I changed colleges; moved states.
  • I changed my life plans.
  • I made new, better best friends.
  • I became a pot head.
  • I started volunteering in a field that would late direct my first career moves/educational paths.
  • I was a leader at everything I joined.
  • I got a kitten that I sillily named Spanish who now mostly goes by The Chicken unless she is in trouble ūüôā
  • I lost touch with my high school friends.
  • I was raped twice.
  • I held different jobs.
  • I found a love for my frisbee golf hobby.
  • Most of my friends left the town where I lived.
  • I traveled to Washington, Idaho, Oregon, Texas, Colorado, Wyoming.
  • I graduated college with an acceptable GPA (over 3.5) and therefore with honors.
  • I got and kicked ass at my first professional job.
  • I had a major illness that went undiagnosed for over a year. I had two major surgeries, one still technically experimental. I advocated for my own medical rights.
  • I stood up to my superiors based on ideals, even though it was not the best move¬†politically.
  • I met a boy who changed my life.
  • I feel in love.
  • I changed my life plans, goals for a boy- something I never thought I would do and have ¬†not regretted once.
  • I was proposed to.
  • I live(d) with said boy.
  • I moved to a place I had only visited for a ¬†total of 40ish hours.
  • I moved across the country with only a car load and my cat (the movers and the boy came soon later)
  • I was unemployed and depressed.
  • I am waging my way through a new professional environment and dynamic.
  • I don’t talk to my family nearly as much as I did 8 years ago.
  • I am an adult now. At 18, I was lost.
  • I’m starting a graduate program for the love of the field, the work, and certainly not for the money.
  • I have serious intentions of babies- something I swore up and down at 18 that I wouldn’t ever have
  • I¬†traveled¬†to Illinois, Wisconsin (duh ūüôā ), and Washington DC.
  • My worldview has changed. My religious beliefs have changed. My world it self has entirely changed.
So much has changed since my mom died that I wonder what is the same. The intangibles. I don’t even know.
This is the first time I have cried today. The sun¬†shiny¬†morning made me think that I could focus on celebration of her memory alone. And then the icefog at work chilled me out a bit (apologies for the pun ūüôā ) ¬†I opened this blog with the intention of posting a picture that now has no business being here, and this is what spilled out.¬†Grieving¬†is good, I keep telling myself. Even though I slightly feel that with each¬†remembrance, the memories slightly fade and blur. We’ll see.
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Comments on: "Eight years" (1)

  1. ‚̧ You are such a badass and incredible person. I'm always very excited to count you as a close friend.

    Sometimes it's hard to realize that we wouldn't know the person who'd been gone so long and that they wouldn't know us. Then I think that we'd still love each other because it's family. And I also know that it's a true testament to them that we keep on living, and living damn well. You are making your mom so very proud, just by being YOU.

    And kiddies?!

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