A year has passed in what feels like the blink of an eye.
Looking back, I have difficulty grasping the truth of the fact that the wheel has turned fully since Dad passed away, last year. I know now that even though I have lived, grown, changed, done, made, achieved a year, I haven't really experienced it. Not fully; not with my eyes open; not in the moment; not with my 'real' self.
Instead I have walked through the days as my 'shadow self' - the part of me that is waking and breathing. The other part of me - the part which really feels - has hidden itself away inside, protecting itself until it knows it is safe to come out again.
As each day passes I think it awakes a little more. Today, exactly a year since Dad died, I have been able to process these thoughts and put them into some semblance of syntactical sense: that is a start.