Where I come from

Papa died two years ago this week.

And I forgot.

I mean, I didn't forget forget, but I have been so busy planning for the future that I forgot to wallow in the past.  When July rolled around I had about two minutes of complete and total guilt, then it vanished into thin air.  When Papa died a lot of things happened that caused the bottom to fall out of my world.  And I spent the first year after his death wondering if I would ever be OK again.

And now I am.

This is where I come from:

Half of me was formed by Gama:  my laugh--extending the benefit of the doubt to others--my faith in God--and my underlying anxiety that the world just might not be a safe place.

The other half of me was formed by Papa:  my sense of humor--my love of animals--my fear of God--and my overwhelming desire to forge ahead, at full-speed, into that world that is probably not safe, but is probably way, way fun.