Today is the second anniversary of my grandmother’s death. On Saturday, I got this tattoo in remembrance of her. I was supposed to get it today, but the artist I wanted to do it was booked all day.

In the weeks leading up to today, I’ve been irritable and lacking in compassion. One day last week, I felt so terrible, I thought I was going to have to leave work early. But I reached out to a close friend, and she helped me make it through it.

Today feels much like last year: I put so many plans in place, expecting to feel horrible on the anniversary, then the day arrives, and I actually don’t feel that bad. I was planning on listening to sad songs and crying for a good portion of the day, but now I don’t feel the need to. This may change as the day goes on though.

I took the day off, because I expected to feel terrible, so my plan is to lay in bed for another hour, then get dressed and go visit my friend and her new baby. Then I’m going to trivia tonight with another friend. I love trivia. And the honey wings at the place we’re going to, so I think that’s a perfect end to the second anniversary of the worst thing that ever happened to me.

I have my tribe of people that are there for me and look out for me and it’s made all the difference. It feels really good to know people are thinking of me today and taking time out of their schedules to spend time with me to make sure I’m OK. For the first time since my grandmother died, I feel safe. I feel protected.

It’s hard to believe it’s been two years, but I’m making it. I’m surviving. I’m moving forward.

Two years ago, I thought I’d never get to this place. Yet, here I am. The road of grief is long, but I’m moving in the right direction. And if you’ve lost someone, you can too.