There is very little to report here on our hill. It's forever winter. At least February is finally over.
Overall, we're just pushing through, waiting for Spring.
And in it all, I'm learning to be me again. I'm finding joy in little things again. Breathing is getting easier. Sometimes it's not. But most of the time it is.
After dealing with continuous physical difficulties for weeks, it seems that after heavy-duty antibiotics the infection I picked up somewhere in all of this has cleared.
I'm hungry again. It was weird, not feeling hunger for ever so long.
I sleep better too. I don't dream as much as I used to. I almost never seem to anymore, at least not like I used to, able to remember.
My heart is scarring over. I won't stay it is healing. Healing doesn't feel even remotely accurate. I'll take the scar.
Life does and will go on. For that I am grateful. I don't want to rush through my life at all, but I am grateful for even just the month that has passed since we lost George. A month means we survived a whole month.
I joined a gym.
But after two failed pregnancies in the last year, I've picked up fifteen unwanted pounds and the gym offered childcare for ALL my kids which means I don't have to get up at 4am to workout. I guess I'll exercise a bit to make it worth it. I want to be strong again. I'm so physically weak it's embarassing. So, the gym is good, I guess.
Derek is so busy, which is good. He does good work. I'm proud of him.
The kids are learning. We slowed school down a bit in the last month for obvious reasons, but we're getting back into a routine.
Life is good. It really is. God is good. I've felt that more than ever before in my life recently. I'm less afraid. I am trusting more. I'm waiting. I'm trying to choose the right. I'm grateful.
We are blessed.