Ch-ch-ch-changes

I'm sitting here in my new room, listening to Jack Johnson and watching the cats take over my tiny bed. I've talked to Pat 3 times and my dad twice. I made dinner, did dishes, had a glass of wine and read 10 pages of immunology (class hasn't even started yet). It didn't occur to me how much I became used to a certain way of life with certain people in certain places until those things all came out of the equation, one way or another. Life feels different. Not bad, but not the same. Definitely going to take some getting used to. That said, I'd rather everything get shaken up at once than just get settled down and turned upside down again. I miss Pat, and Bailey and Lucas and Obe and Bella. I miss my mom so much it actually HURTS when I breathe sometimes. I wish she could have seen me getting coated and been proud that I was doing the thing I've always dreamed of doing. I wish she could have seen me yesterday, flying down a zipline after shouting my nickname, "Petunia zipping!" It's going to be hard remembering that I can't call her; my fingers know the way so well. But - and there's always a but - life moves forward. No matter how much I'd like for time to stand still, just for a little while, I can be sure that it won't. Grief is a funny thing. It comes and goes, washing over you in waves. Sometimes it makes you a little shaky and other times it just bowls you over. But you have to keep moving, because you know in your heart that if you slow down, or stop, you'll sink in and never be able to climb out. Which is why I'm here, in Mississippi, doing this vet school thing, and trying to keep moving.