The decision

As I move through this grief process, I have come to a decision - a decision to move on.

This journey is long and difficult,
and far from over

This does not mean that I am finished grieving. In fact, my grief is as strong as it has ever been over the last roughly six months. It also doesn't mean that my life is about to change in any real way any time soon. Even at this very moment the thought of Aimee and the fact that she's gone for the rest of my life fills me with an almost unbearable pain that I desperately want to escape from. No, I am not finished grieving. This 'decision' is less of a defining moment than it is a mark of a gradual turning point in a long journey.

This decision is the result of months of trudging through pain, tears, grief, anger, despair, and more. And that journey is not complete. Hell, in many ways it's just barely begun, I suspect. This journey will take years.

But for the first time, I am starting to feel like some of the words I've been saying will eventually come true. Not today, or tomorrow, but someday. Words like:

• I need to continue to live my life.
• I will show Rowan that there can be, will be, and is happiness in life even after such a huge and tragic loss.
• Life is short, unpredictable, and fragile, so you better live life while you're still alive.
• I will be happy again. I will find joy in life again. (Right now, I do find these things in Rowan, but in little else.)

These are things I've been saying but haven't really meant to this point. I've hoped them, wished them, and tried to make them real. But until recently, I haven't felt like they were true. That is starting to shift.

Who knows, maybe I feel this way right now, for a few days, and then regress into what I've been feeling and stay there for weeks or months more. In fact, that probably will happen. But deep down, I know that slowly, slowly, like a turtle making his way through a puddle of molasses, I am working towards a day when I can feel real happiness again.