6 months

It's been 6 months since my mother was taken from me.

It's been 6 months since I've heard her voice.

It's been 6 months since I got a text or voicemail from her just to say hello, even though I wasn't speaking to her.

It's been 6 months of grieving.

It's been 6 months and sometimes it feels like 6 days and other times it feels like 6 years...

These past 6 months have changed me. I am not who I was when the new year started and I don't think I'll ever be that girl again. As I mourn the loss of my mother, I also mourn the loss of that girl.

I've been in a transition period for a lot of this year and many things have taken place that I have no control over. I am learning more each day that I control almost nothing. The only thing I can control is my perspective and reaction to the things happening to and around me.

Life, as I quite frequently refer to as a big wave, will forever keep going at the pace it chooses. It will continue to throw us under a swell. Sometimes, we'll make it out clean on the other side and sometimes, the wave will swallow us up and (hopefully) spit us out. No matter which wave I'm surfing, I refuse to drown.

My mother surfed a lot of fucking waves during her lifetime. I mean, GNARLY barrels. Most of her life, from what I witnessed of it, she always got right back on her board. She never let this life defeat her. She was one of the most badass women I had the pleasure of knowing and being loved by.

She had her demons. We all do. She may have not been able to beat her addictions at the end but man, did she teach me some incredible things while she was here.

I am able to overcome everything thrown at me because of that woman. She was the epitome of strength. She always told me to be kind and not judge anyone. She talked to people like she had known them for years, even if she had just met them. She took care of people, even when it destroyed her own existence. She was silly. She had a musical soul and could dance to any jam. She taught me to always be myself and to take no shit from anyone. She was one-of-a-kind and let her daughters find their way and become unique people of their own.

I don't know if I will ever be okay with what happened to my mother. I don't think she should have gone out the way she did but again, I cannot control that.

What I can control is the way I live my life from now on. I choose not to give in to my addictions. I choose to better myself every day. I choose gratitude over self-pity. 

Yesterday, I started writing in my mother's gratitude journal that I found in her apartment. It was cathartic writing next to her handwriting; reading the things she was grateful for last year; reading her hopes and dreams for the future. Even after losing her, I have to find things to be thankful for.

I will continue to try and make her proud by living a sober life; something that she couldn't do on her own... but that's just it- we can't do this life alone, especially a life in recovery.

I wish I was a little more caring to her in her last months of life. I wonder if I had given her some more grace that she'd still be here? I could go on and on with my "what-if's" and "I wishes" but we unfortunately cannot live that way. I have to accept that she's gone and I have to smile at the memories we made while she was here. She was one hip hip lady and I'll always try to talk about her so her legacy can live on. I love you, mom.

So, here's to the next 6 months and the rest of 2024. Anything can happen, so please, live in the moment, be kind, trust your gut, fuck what people think, and tell the people you care about that you love them... every. single. day.

Keep on keepin' on, peeps and much love.