It is 9:58pm.
It was around 9:20pm on January 14, 2015, a year ago to the day, when I learned that my mother had died. I already knew it, in my heart, because I had spoken to her around 8:30. She was not well. My sister then spoke to her and then called me to say that Mom was more lucid. I called Mom back around 8:45, and she did not pick up. By 9, the nursing home had called me here at the house to tell me they could not find a pulse. 20 minutes after that, I got the official word. But it just confirmed what I already knew.
A year. I don't know where it has gone. It has gone by so quickly, and slowly at the same time. I have had ample time to think, and to decide what is important to me, and what is not. Let me tell you about some of my life decisions.
I have decided I have no room in my life for people who make me unhappy and miserable, and whom I do not trust, like, abide, tolerate, acknowledge or recognize. This has resulted in at least one relationship that is gone for good, but it is not my loss. It is hers, and someday she will realize that. At least, I hope she does.
If something I do not have to do, is not fun to do; if it has no pay off, no reward, no light at the end of its tunnel, then I won't do it.
If I can find some way, any way, to simplify my life, then I will take that route, every time, without fail.
If can honour my parents in some way by being the best person I can be, then that is what I will do, every time, without fail.
And if I can live up to the words I expressed when I presented the eulogy at my mother's funeral last year, then I will die happy, myself. Here is the link to that post, in case you missed it.
This is a day of mourning for me, but a day of reflection as well. Please leave me to that time, now, if you don't mind.
See you tomorrow.