Monday Morning, a while later

I sat down to write because today feels different. But after deleting a dozen first sentences maybe not so much has changed within me after all. I work. I do dishes and laundry. I play with my golden girl and her new most assuredly adorable little brother. Coming home and being with family has become my world.

I wanted to write about this past Friday, and my sister in law being laid to rest, but I find my emotions still too raw. Yesterday I dreamed of going to a therapist and declaring that I didn't know there was still so much anger in me. Maybe that was therapeutic enough, maybe another chink in my armour has fallen away or at least begun to chip. Oh yes, I love analogies and words and sentences that for a moment make me feel empowered. But I long for real change, for steps going forward. 

I also love quotes that give me hope. The latest, "It is not our memories that define us, but what we do". I hate to think what the past years say about me. But one thing I can be sure of is that no matter how slow I travel this route, I have not quit. I have not sat down at the side of the road with my head in hands.

Off to work and another productive day; my lunch bag full of veggies, and good intentions tucked into every corner.