June revisited.

And so it is June once again. I turned the calendar this morning and had a flood of emotions and memories.
In some ways it feels like, " Already?" But mostly it amazes and exhausts me to think of the events of  last June.

This week last year Glenn was attending Austin's eighth grade graduation, where the last formal picture I have of him was taken.  It remains one of my favorites.  I was finishing school, ready for summer and pestering him about a summer trip.  The last plan was to drive the Lake Superior trail, although he was only lukewarm on that.  I remember when he returned from that graduation, we called Chris on his birthday and said we would be down to St. Paul soon to celebrate both his and Rianna's birthday. Little did we know that his funeral would take place on Rianna's actual birthday.

Looking back at the calendar last year, this was the month his new assignment of mentoring at Emmanuel in Alexandria was to begin. He was as excited about that as anything I'd seen for a long time. He finally felt the part of spiritual leader in a parish again and he was like a duck in water.
The month before we had decided to stay here in Baxter indefinitely and there was a peace to that decision. It finally felt like home.

My mom was in the nursing home doing rehab on her broken arm. Never for a minute did I think I would visit her two weeks later in the middle of the night to tell her he was gone.

I'd like to say that last June 1st I saw it coming, but I didn't. And I don't think the card he gave me around Mothers Day was a premonition. But I do cherish it and Ariel made it into a wall hanging for me.
       From A.A. Milne-
        " If ever there is a time when we're not together...there is something you must always remember.
        You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. Even if
         we're apart....I'll always be with you."

Who knew those words would prove so true last June 1st?

This will be one of my last blog entries. I always intended to keep it for a year so I would have a record. To keep it longer would mean to remain living and reflecting in the past. During this year I've come to really know and believe and accept that he is gone. And I'm still here.  We both believed that life is for the living; to be enjoyed and lived as fully as possible.

And that is my intention.

On the journey.