happy-memories

A year ago my very wise, amazing bestie Camille told me, as I cried for the millionth time since John had died three months earlier, to hang on. She promised me that I wouldn’t feel this way forever, that the pain would begin to fade and my life would come back to center. She told me I’d feel better again someday and I just needed to hold on through this part. Like the song says…If you’re going through Hell keep on going, don’t slow down. She promised me that, once I had a year under my belt, my whole world would look different.

 

She told me to just hold on, that this would pass. To give it a year.

 

A year, at that point, felt like a lifetime to me. Hell, a day felt like a lifetime, like something I might not make it through.

 

It was hard to believe in her promise because I was in such intense, almost unbearable pain and I couldn’t see my way out of it. My future and who I thought I was had died in the instant my beloved, beautiful, perfect-for-me husband died. It felt like the darkness would never lift.

 

As I laughed and ate and celebrated life with Camille, her sweet hubby and daughter, and my new love over the weekend, it dawned on me that she’d been right.

 

Life looks amazing from where I’m sitting now. Even looking back at the past year, with all the pain and growth, I feel good about where I am and what my future looks like. I’ve reinvented myself (because I had to, not because I wanted to) and am thrilled about who I’ve become and what the changes I’ve embraced mean for my future.

 

I still have tough days now and then, but the good days far outnumber the bad ones. And even on bad days, I can look at the good in my life and the people who love me and be grateful for it all.

 

As usual, Camille was right. If you know her, that won’t surprise you. And boy, am I glad.

 

#lovetrumpscancer #livelikejohnny #ilovethelunts
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