6 years ago tomorrow

6 years ago this past Sunday, Cole was born. It was and still is the single most wonderful day of my life. I can see it all in vivid detail in my mind. It's hard to imagine that my tall 6 year old was every 6 lbs 8 oz and a short 18 inches long. I can just remember those hours in the hospital room after his birth rubbing his head and repeating "he's so perfect!" He was. He is.

So as life changed 6 years ago and I was settling in to my new found role as mother, life was about to change in a more tragic way. January 9, 2003 is when my daddy died. Often mentioned here, it's the main reason I started blogging. I needed a way to emote all those deep feelings and try to move past it all. But here I am 6 years later, the stinging pang of that day still as fresh in my mind and as vivid as the 5 days prior when Cole was born.

Have I moved on any? Yes, I think it's safe to assume that I've done a lot of work on my emotions and I'm doing better at dealing with my grief. But, the mere fact that I have to bring it up here and write it all down is just proof that it's still a very profound and defining moment of my life. I've come to hate January. Almost as much as I hate December. And the only reason I hate December is because I know January will follow. I did better during the holidays this year. I managed to make it almost completely through the month of December without any major breakdowns. But, as fate would have it, I did have a breakdown. Actually a few breakdowns. During one such breakdown I told Jr. I wanted a divorce for Christmas. Imagine my startled surprise when his response was "Good. I happen to be going to see our attorney on Monday for something anyway. I'll get him to draw up the papers!" **gulp** He kids.

So once the steak was scrapped off the walls and the coke was soaked up out of the floor, I got over it and we got right back up on that horse and rode off into the sunset.

Here I am 6 years into motherhood. I've learned that crying over spilled milk (or coke and steak) is useless. I've figured out that you sort of make up the parenting manual as you go. 6 years into my grief I've learned that there's not time table for getting past it. Which actually tells me I'm making some progress forward.

Peace!