Six months (ish) on

I think of her most days. She was like a second mother. Sometimes I talk to her, as if she was still here, just in case she can hear me.

I wonder if I think of her more than when she was here. I wonder if this is to be the fate of all of us and I feel sad. Then I realise that in her going, I think more often about everyone I love.

Maybe this will be my fate, to be thought of more often once I’m gone, but there's not much I can do about how much others think about me. I can only change what I do. Those I love are in my thoughts more, because of her leaving, and I feel I show my love more than I used to. I try to have compassion when I am frustrated. I try to understand more when I am annoyed. I try to be gentler when others don't understand me. I try to be more congruent and honest in my actions and my words. I'm not a saint and I get things wrong all the time, but I'm trying harder to show those I love that I love them, in small ways. I know they may not see what I do because we all show love in different ways, but I can't change that either. What I can do, instead, is to try to see what others do to show me that they love me. To see their small efforts that previously might have gone unnoticed by me.

In tiny little ways, we can change our own worlds. We can listen to the lessons that life gives to us and by doing so make our lives more beautiful.