The older I get, the faster the pages of the calendar flip by. Months feel like weeks and a year is nothing. I remember waiting for important dates as a child, those magical milestone birthdays, the first day of school, Christmas, my first concert (The O.C Supertones, Jennifer Knapp, and Audio Adrenaline), and my first date. The days went by so very slowly. The more excited I was for a big day to come, the slower it approached.

Now time is on a hyper mode, starting and ending with August. Those that have been around for a while know that "August" is almost a four lettered word in our household. Just mentioning August is enough to make us suck in a breath, or make our hearts plummet into our stomachs. August is not a happy month for our little family. It's a month that signifies pain, loss, heartache, flashbacks, and fantasies of what could have been. It's the month that holds the anniversary of our son's death and just days later, his birthday. Our Max died on August 12th, 2010. He would have been two on August 17th. This year he would have turned 6. He would have been entering the 1st grade. Those are the worst words of all, "would have".

Here's the thing about grief, there is no normal. There's no such thing as a routine. I cannot look back at the other Augusts and expect them to be an indicator of what this August will be like. The phrase "one day at a time" is my mantra. I have, however, noticed subtle differences in my own behavior and feelings. In previous years, I was angry. I was angry at everyone and everything. I was especially angry at myself. Every breath I took I was angry to still be breathing when my son was not. I pulled away from others and sheltered myself. I faked my way through social outings or just didn't show up at all. I canceled things, a lot.

This year just feels different. My outlook is somehow brighter. Since ceasing my medications two months ago, I'm finding it easier to laugh and easier to cry. I can feel again and I'm allowing myself to feel everything. I'm learning who I can lean on and am working on making the effort to reach out when I need help. I'm planning ahead for the difficult days. I know who I can call if I feel low and need to talk. I know who I can call if I need to lifted up or to be distracted with laughter. For the first time, I do not feel alone. I know I have people to turn to now. I have my friends and I have my church to get me through.

This month will be hard, but I will be ok.