Waiting until I was 33 to grow up has all sorts of consequences. My father's not around to see all the wonderful changes I've made in my life. I finally have a job that I love and loves me back, just as much. My husband and I don't argue, my children are all becoming successful in school. I feel like my biggest cheerleader moved on and didn't get the see me finally score the winning touchdown.
My heart is still heavy from the loss of Lauren and my father. Thinking of the approaching Thanksgiving puts panic in my heart. I don't want another Thanksgiving. I want to have the last one be the memory of "Thanksgiving". My father was alive and Lauren was playing happily with toys I bought all day (much to the dismay of her mother).
I feel like I have outgrown who I was and am still adjusting to living life in the new way. No more anger, no more resentment. Each day holds hope and joy.