Nine Months

Tonight marks nine months since my late husband, Charles, passed away. Nine months is a long time. It’s ¾ of a calendar year. It’s a whole school year. It’s long enough to have a baby (but my mom-friends need not worry: I won’t break it down into weeks; I don’t speak in weeks). It’s how long the US Copyright Office takes to process an application to register your copyrighted work.

Nine months is also long enough to lose 50 pounds. It’s enough time to meet and become friends with some really incredible people. It’s just sufficient time to rediscover things I had forgotten I loved to do…like hike, like learn new songs on the piano for pleasure, like make my bed every day (unless I don’t feel like it).

Interestingly, it’s enough time to learn some new tricks, such as soaking up as much sunshine as possible every day, or watching (and enjoying) hockey. Or not planning out my life more than a day or a few hours in advance. Or actively seeking slightly dangerous adventure.

Most importantly, nine months is enough time to come to know, unequivocally, that I am loved by some pretty amazing people.

If you had asked me on October 1^st how I’d feel nine months from then, I don’t think “happy, excited, hopeful, adventuresome, content, grateful, loved” would have been believable adjectives. I owe nine months of gratitude to a lot of places: to my Heavenly Father for giving me growth opportunities and listening to the sincere desires of my heart; to my family for letting me start over and try being a better daughter, sister, and aunt; to my old friends (not in age—I think I’m actually the oldest in most of my social groups :-/) for carrying me through some lonely and desperate times; to my new friends for taking a chance on me; and to myself for owning this experience and letting myself flourish.