Yesterday was nine months. Nine months since my aunt died, four days after I flew home from Canada. I'd been doing well for the most partly lately. I've come to expect that "well for the most part" is the norm. I've also come to expect that the twelfth on any month will suck.
I was doing okay while helping in a classroom for a teacher that I sub for regularly and babysit for. Sometimes she has me come in to make copies, enter grades, and all that little stuff, and yesterday was no different.
I was doing okay when I walked to the car to go pick up Chinese food for lunch. I was doing okay with the first song on the radio.
And then, Jason Michael Carroll's Where I'm From came on. I had finally hit the point where I can listen to the song without falling apart. Except yesterday. Yesterday I started crying and couldn't stop. Which is lovely when you're walking into a classroom.
I can't believe it's been nine months. I can't believe that in three months it'll be a year. That days bound to be difficult. I'll be teaching summer school then. Here's hoping I can do "well for the most part" until then. And avoid songs that make me cry.