It has been one year since I was diagnosed with several of my ailments. I swear it was just yesterday. I look back at this last year and I realize so much as gone on. From throwing up constantly, wondering if something was extremely wrong with me, to taking a multitude of tests, to thinking am I going to live on this diet, to traveling and eating, to now.
The winter is now coming in, most of the leaves at our house have gone off the trees, and the color of gray has transcended on our house. There is a mere month between fall and winter that really isn't anything. I know it is one of those seasons, but for me it is a state of hibernation. The ground has no snow on it to ski with, but the skies are always threatening. That is when the fireplace comes alive, the books come out, the movies are played and the blankets become a welcoming comfort.
I use to hate that month, it seemed so nothing, so daunting, but as I grow older I have found that I am not physically able to keep up with everything. I am not old enough to sit in a chair, but I am not young enough to keep up with everything, which in the end makes me feel guilty of not physically doing more. This month allows me to just do whatever I want and not feel guilty at all since the weather is dictating to me that it is uncooperative.
But what happened to this last year. When your life is so busy, it just passes so quickly. Old people say life goes so fast, and I can now believe.
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