Bittersweet.

Last year on July 24Th, it was the first time I ever intentionally planned and did something fun on that day. It was the six year anniversary of the death of a very dear friend of mine. It was the anniversary of the deaths of two other friends as well. It was always a bitter day for me because I have never fully recovered from that loss and I still miss my friend every day. However, after six years I decided it was time that I start to heal. I went and saw Amos Lee on that day, because he is my favorite musical artist and I couldn't pass up the concert. It was wonderfully healing, sitting there in the grass on a beautiful day, with a good friend, hearing his wonderful music.

Then, we drove home and when we arrived I found out that another old friend had passed away that day. I had not been close with this friend in years, but I was still heartbroken. It was someone whose hugs and smiles I could always count on. My healing day had been interrupted by another loss. My heart has ached for the last year because I have yet to go home and pay my respects to this friend.

On January 24, 2011 I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy named Olwyn. Ever since the moment I lifted him up out of the water (which was in a pool, in my living room, and was totally rad), I have been absolutely smitten with him. He's the happiest baby I have ever met. However, I immediately connected the dates and realized that his half birthday was going to fall on a day that I consider cursed. Nothing good has ever happened to me on July 24Th. I'm not the world's most superstitious person, but I was freaking out. I still sort of am.

Yesterday came and went. I mourned my friends. I prayed for them. I looked up at the sky and told them that I loved them. I also celebrated my baby. My sweet, perfect boy was six month old yesterday. He woke up six months and one day old this morning. Yesterday was sunny and yesterday was a good day. It almost fills like the hole in my heart where my friend was is growing smaller. The memories of her are growing sweeter, just like my son. It was so bittersweet to realize that maybe, just maybe, my son is God's (and Charlie's) way of giving me something sweet to think of on a day that has always been clouded for me.

Maybe I can start finding peace that has eluded me. I know that Charlie, Vanessa, Sam, and Nathan are at peace. I like to think that they would want all of the living to be as well.