Still Truckin'

As I knew would happen, I am growing from the initial stages of grief. The one-year mark in March came and went, and in an odd way, I was able to breathe much better afterwards. I survived the first year. Tomorrow will be the 18-year anniversary of my father's fatal asthma attack, the one that left him in a coma for several days before he died. I still miss my father, but the pain of not having him subsided long ago (for the most part). I have lived longer without him than with him, and I have had a pretty good life. I am starting to feel similar feelings about Mom, now. I love my parents, but my life is continuing. I have responsibilities and dreams and goals that did not died when they did. I am ok. I received an outstanding appraisal this year at work, I traveled to London last month, and I am still working on my thesis (which will be done in September... finally!). I've had my downs, too. I had another miscarriage earlier this month (number 2 now), but I dealt with it ok - definitely much better than the first one. Maybe Mom's death put things into perspective. Death happens, and shouldn't stop others from living. I hope that this will be one of my last entries about grief. I am growing, and don't want to dwell on sadness anymore. I will be directing another Shakespeare play, I'm traveling to London again in June, and I am looking forward to my grad school graduation. Within the next year, I will be married and hopefully have a successful pregnancy. I am only 34 - I have many good years left and I want to greet those years with smiles rather than tears. Ciao!