So I didn’t end up spending most of today curled up in a ball crying on my bedroom floor, which surprised me.

I was feeling rather angry though. I got into a yelling match with a guy who got mad because my car door touched his precious truck in the parking lot at my nail salon.

I had a hard time looking at women’s photos with their kids on social media and watching people who were obviously celebrating Mother’s Day at restaurants, but that’s about it.

I’m not sure if this is me moving closer to acceptance, the final stage of grief, or if my sad feelings are going to hit me later. Either way, I’m just glad I was able to make it through the day.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom-Mom. I love you and miss you.

P.S. This photo is from the program for my grandmother’s funeral. When I took it and cropped it, I started crying. Partly because my grandmother looks so full of life in this photo. This picture perfectly captures her personality. Looking at this photo, I think, “How can she be dead?” It still doesn’t seem real to me sometimes.

So I guess I found my grief. I knew it was there, just beneath the surface. It always is.