6 Months.

I guess I thought that when I reached the 6 month mark I would somehow have more acceptance of her death. It is an arbitrary number, but it has been stuck in my head for the last few weeks. I keep seeing it on the calendar like a big flashing light. 6 months ago I was on a plane headed for Salt Lake. It was a surreal feeling.  That morning, I got on the shuttle from base and immediately fell asleep. That is my coping mechanism. Funny, it was hers too. I woke up instantly as we pulled into the airport. I went through the motions, numb, to get on the plane. When I arrived in Salt Lake, I had to get a rental car. I was in such a hurry and everyone seemed to be in slow motion. I just wanted to scream, "Dont you understand that my mother is about to die!!!!" but, somehow, I held back. The drive to Tina's felt like an eternity. I probably shouldn't have been driving. Strangely, I could see fireworks in the distance. They just seemed so out of place. I kept having these bits of denial. I would get there and she would snap out of it. She would be ok.
When I got to Tina's, it all hit me. She was just a skeleton of her former self. She was dying. Stupidly, I wasn't prepared. I got to say what I wanted to say to her, but in hindsight what I really wanted was to hear her say something back. It was too late for that.

Colton and Clint's visit did give me the opportunity to have some closure. We wrote our messages, thoughts and feelings on paper lanterns and sent them off. I think Clint described it best:

"Before setting them free we decorated them with our love, thoughts, memories, and hopes. But most importantly we filled them with our energy and thoughts, hoping they would be carried where they needed to be, somewhere where they could be heard!"
 As the three of us started our walk, we talked about the clear beautiful sky. When we arrived at the field, Colton commented on how foggy it was, even a little scary. But, as we lit the lanterns and set them off, all of the fog disappeared. The moon had a rainbow halo and misty clouds spread across the previously clear sky. In that moment, I felt that she heard me. I needed it desperately. I finally felt a weight lift from my shoulders.

Sometimes I worry that this is too personal for my blog. But I need and appreciate the comments from people who knew her and miss her too. It doesn't feel any less painful today than it did 6 months ago. I still haven't gone one day without thinking about her, our relationship, and my regrets. Remembering her is all I can do now. She told me she was afraid we would forget her. We won't.