Today it will be hard to be thankful.
I watched the sunrise as I drove home from her house. My first drive home without her in the world. Her soul had soared in the dark of night with the broad wings of the mysterious owl finding its ways back Home. And, just like that, we found ourselves left behind and in the midst of grief.
I pulled my car back in the drive, unlocked the door, and escaped the damp chill in the air. I climbed back in bed to sleep until the rest of the house would wake.
Every morning for the past six months, I have wanted to climb back in that bed. I want to lie down and cover myself up in the warm comfy covers and let my body and mind rest. I want to sleep. I want to pretend like that day, April 22nd, didn't really happen. I want to just let myself go, to not care, to succumb to the darkness of grief that hovers around me.
But I don't. Some days it's harder than others to resist to the temptation to just lie down and not fight through the day, but I choose to go through it anyway. I think this is where the thankfulness comes in...
I am thankful that my mom showed me how to fight through most anything.
She never gave in. Never gave up. Never sulked around, never let anything get her down. She chose to get up everyday and keep fighting. Even when things seemed overwhelming and inevitable, she fought through whatever that day had in store for her.
If she could fight through her days laden with health problems, with pain, with every physical obstacle imaginable thrown into her path at some point in her battle with cancer, then I can fight through this grief.
Today, six months after she breathed her last, I am thankful for the fighting spirit she exemplified so well throughout her life.