120 days have come and gone since that hopeless afternoon.
An afternoon that was filled with so much uncertainty. So much pain. So much brokenness.
I sat in my backyard ready to finish my story.
No more pages would be written.
No plot twists.
But here I sit, four months later and I’ve never felt better.
I’m still healing.
I’m still growing.
And sometimes it hurts.
But I am still here to feel that pain.
Still here to feel that joy.
In a week, it will be six months since I said goodbye to my mom.
Six months since my life drastically changed.
There have been plenty of lows.
But so many more redeeming moments.
Soon I will be closing my 25th year of life and ushering in 26.
I’m so ready to leave 25 behind.
So here’s to you 25.
You kicked my butt in more ways than one.
You tried to leave me broken multiple times and I tried to make sure you weren’t completed.
May 26 be kinder to me than you were.
This story is far from being finished.
If you find yourself written in the pages, know that I could never thank you enough.