Cherish the memories of closed chapters as we transition into new ones.

It's gloomy AF today, June 5th, cold with meager spits of rain. But look what's starting to flower--it's jacaranda time! And after three weeks of hobbling around with an injured knee, I finally had no pain when I got out of bed and my limp is gone. The ortho gave me an Rx for PT for 6 weeks and said he thinks I'll be good to go. I will be hiking this summer!

The doctor asked how I'd been in the five years since he last saw me. I said, do you really want to know or are you just being polite? No, no, he said, I really want to know. The last three years have been rough, I answered. Hell, actually. He nodded, but then he said: I think it's getting better. I agreed, but not without a disclaimer: things will never be the same.

No, they won't. But in this post-apocalyptic time--and for me the past three years were an apocalypse of a sort, post-illness, post-losing my mother--I feel for the first time like myself. I'm still in transition, but then, all of life is transition as things constantly change. For the first time in a long time I feel happy just to get out of bed in morning, without the cloud of doom hanging over my head. Gratitude for my bunny grooming my face when I first see her in the morning, for my birdie allowing me to stroke her breast when I remove her cover. She still won't sit on my finger, but she did once, and maybe she will again. I can always hope.

A friend posted about leaving her beautiful house and moving into a new one--she will miss the former sanctuary she made, but she's already making one in her new home. I think that's what we have to continue to do as we move through life--cherish the memories of closed chapters as we transition into new ones, being grateful for what we have instead of lamenting what is no longer available to us. Easier said than done. Grieving is necessary, essential. But so is believing that there's still much to be explored and savored in our current life. That said, I still hate getting old(er), even though I know it's a privilege. Let's see what I have to say about that in ten years if I'm still around. As long as I can still wear wear low tops when I'm old, I'll be good.