Yesterday wasn't terrible.
It was filled with love from friends and family, texts, cards, Facebook messages, a wonderful dinner and a few hands of cards and one very special video that was randomly posted by a group of friends that I have managed to alienate over the years but who I adore as much as always. There were no tears at the sight of my De gazing on in confusion at a group of women acting quite silly. Just a smile of remembrance of a good time and how much she loved spending time with us, even when we were acting a fool. I can hear her laugh in my heart.
With each passing day she is missed more and that is a battle I feel I am going to have to fight for the remainder of my life. That leaves me here wondering whats Life even for or about? I don't know. I am not going to pretend to, but what I have to believe is there is a purpose. There is a gift in my life to share. That I will be home soon and some of edge of this hurt will ease enough to explore the what for, the what now, the how can I be a good human.
I think part of the fear of being yet another year older is I am running out of time. At 45 I wonder, will I always be fat? How many more years are left to lose this weight? How much longer will I even be able to run? At 45 I wonder, will I make a difference in the world? Is there time left to be something special? Is there time to be a gift?
My life is consumed completely and totally in getting back to the beach and trying to make it to the end of each day through this sadness. I feel like it is all just slipping by and until I get back on my ground I can't seem to stop it. At night I wonder sometimes, was that the last day? What will they say I accomplished? Will they remember anything I have done? Did I leave a legacy?
My birthday wish... Please don't let it be too late.