I don’t cry at stop lights anymore.
I just realized that a few weeks ago. After 5 years of having the word Glioblastoma in my vocabulary I don’t cry at stop lights. That may seem like a small insignificant thing, or even really random, but I did most of my crying about my dad in the car. It was the only place I was alone.
But grief is a very fickle thing and I do still cry. Like right now at my desk. Fleetwood Mac’s song Landslide just played on my Spotify radio and it actually made me suck in my breath. It’s amazing how music can bring back a feeling so strongly.
Take a deep breath and continue.
My mom is all settled in her new home. She is really happy. She called me yesterday and told me that she was going to go on a date. That was a weird conversation. I was actually surprised at how excited I was for her. We giggled and laughed. Then I was nervous for her and it brought up all the questions of “What if she gets married?” “Does that mean I have step siblings?” “So she’ll have more grandkids?” all in a matter of 10 seconds while she was talking to me about it.
It was weird. But I was not sad.
I just want her to be happy. That is all my dad would have wanted too.
The world just keeps spinning, and life does go on.
I was pretty sure 4 years ago it wouldn’t.
I’m very pleasantly surprised.