The Devil and the Deep Blue Tutu

So now I am past the one-year mark, and April has proved to be a very busy month. I enjoyed the company of relatives who came to stay for a couple weeks, and there are upcoming commitments and obligations yet to be fulfilled. Now that my home is silent once more, with the exception of occasional animal shenanigans, I find myself poised on some edge of expectation like a ballerina on point.  How long can I/will I stay frozen in time?

Others who have walked this way before me say that the second year is worse than the first - and I think, O Lord, is that even possible?  I tell myself that won't be true for me, and I pray with all my might to make it so.  Having experienced the death of my mother at an early age, I am well aware how the memory of death tags along for a lifetime, an unwelcome hitchhiker in the vehicle that is my life.  I used to have Mr. Grim Reaper locked in the trunk of the car but this past year he's been riding shotgun, and I wonder to myself how many months or years it will take me to wrestle him back into submission this time around. However, I have a greater hope.  After all, I'm older, wiser in the Lord, stronger...and more experienced.  I have supportive friends and family. I'm learning to be an open book and to overcome fear.  My unwelcome passenger seems to find all of this distasteful and  I'm thinking that with God's help this little ballerina can take 'em.