Today was a different kind of day. I didn't cry - I almost cried during my "special hour," but I didn't - only the threat of tears. It's the first day since Tash died that I haven't cried. I don't know if that's progress. I don't know how how I feel about it - a little guilty. There are so many terrible things about the death of your child - your only child - but, one of the worst is guilt. I don't know what I could have done differently - but, there had to be something that I could have done to save her - to make her life easier - to have gotten her that kidney that she was waiting on - SOMETHING!!! The guilt rides my shoulders so much - so, on a day like today, a day that would be considered good by many is considered not too good by me. NOW, I feel guilty for not feeling sad or guilty. How messed up is that? It's a vicious cyle - this grieving process. It will be five months next week & I'm still texting her every day - I'm still checking her Facebook - I'm still leaving comments. Is this normal? I don't know. Does it matter whether it's normal? Because normal or not, this is MY new normal. I'm learning that I have to let people go from my life. I'm learning that I don't know who I am. I have always been TASHA'S MOM and that's the only thing I ever wanted to be. The rest of my life has involved being who others want me to be - who they expect me to be. I don't even know who I really am with Tash removed from my life. I don't even know what I like - what I like to do. I have become a chameleon, blending into whatever form I need to, if it allows me to fit in, make others feel at ease, or allows me easy passage. This week, I want to find something I like - a song, an outfit, a hobby - WHO AM I? Because I know I am not me that I have been for the last 43 years....