I've gotten up a few minutes early to write this morning- I'd actually started writing parts of this in my head days ago, before I'd even decided for sure that I would write about it- I couldn't really help myself, and therefore I hate how contrived parts of this is. But the idea to let today skip by without even a passing mention seemed weird to me.

Today is the second anniversary of the day my mom died.
I think the tombstone says the 17th- but it's the 16th when everything happened all at once.
That week is burned into my head, I could spend at least a month trying to capture all my feelings and experiences during that time and still not scratch the surface of everything.

As ever I'm shocked at how much has changed in that time, and how much has stayed the same.

The thing of it is, I believe that I could go through today like it was any other day- when I go through my work today my coworkers will have no idea today has any significance to me- I believe I could always push the sadness out of my mind, but I choose not to. I choose to let loose the floodgates, to remember and to feel, every so often, to feel that sting of loss. I don't wallow in grief, but I owe my mother that much at least, because, unsurprisingly, I love my mom very much.