I almost never blog anymore, but I always blog in airports, and that’s where I am right now.
Yesterday would have been my mother’s 64th birthday. It’s been two years since she passed. She’ll never meet my boyfriend. She’ll never see me finish my masters or have a real job. She’ll never visit me in Alabama or Arizona or anywhere else I might end up living. And my life keeps going on. I keep moving forward. Everyday I’m distanced from what she knew me to be. And I’m hoping that I’m who she would have wanted me to be.
We’re flying to California because my dad is getting married on Saturday. He’s moving to Southern California. My brother moved back to our childhood home to keep the house. Everything’s different, and I’m not even around to notice it.
People keep asking me how I feel about these changes. My biggest concern is that my dad is happy, so obviously I’m fine with it. And honestly, being across the country, I don’t even notice the changes. My life is still the same. I go the same job. I have the same friends. The only difference is that I’m in school, so I have class and homework.
So yeah. I’m happy. Or relatively. Blending my family is not the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I’ll try to have more thoughts next time.