Half a year goes by...

Six months. It's been six months since Tami died. Everybody lied. The pain doesn't get easier. It doesn't get less. It grows. It seems to feed on itself and make itself stronger. It's true - sometimes I can look at pictures of us and not immediately burst into tears. Like these ones.

Here is us in Florida. She bought us these shirts so we could wear them to the movie - she's always liked the "bad boy" characters while I like the kinder, gentler ones. 

This is Casey's, of course. My favorite place to eat in Vero. We went every Saturday morning when we both lived there.

And here we are with Flat Stanley at The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. One of the best days ever. We got chocolate frogs and wands from Olivander's and butterbeer. Lots of silly fun.

I loved her. She knew it. I have no regrets because she knew I loved her. I miss her every day. Not less today than I did six months ago. I thought by now it would feel less like faking it, but it doesn't. Life just keeps going on and I keep going with it.

Cheap Thoughts? Soul Journal?

Maybe a nice combo! Remember a year ago when Suzi was doing her Soul Garden class and we made these fun planners and notecards and kept excellent track of everything? I LOVED that and yet, I stopped doing it. This is what my planner looks like these days:

The occasional artistic doodle makes its way in:

Lots of times it's just notes to myself and random thoughts and stuff other people say:

I'd like it to be a little bit more organized. Not ridiculously, I mean, everyone knows me and I am who I am: a very interesting combination of scattered like spilled rice an focused like a laser. I like randomly having ice cream for dinner but I'd also like to be able to make a nice meatloaf if I want without having to go to the grocery store three times because I forgot things or forgot my list or had the list and still forgot things. I'm going to work on it! 

Let the journal hold it

So, I've been working in this journal for about six months. Maybe a little longer, but I think I started it in March of this year. This was one of my first spreads. There are a zillion layers here! I'm not usually someone who goes back and forth with pages and adds things over time. But I have been lately and I really love how this journal is coming together. There is journaling under the blue paint, and over the blue paint. The face here is not the original face. I remember liking that one better, but this one is not horrible!

The dress, that is from a Life Book lesson about letting go. Letting the journal wear things for you. Letting it hold onto things that are weighing on your mind. I do this often, but not often enough. I am usually on the verge of a major panic attack before I remember to start journaling. A lot of the time I write the same things over and over "I'm going to be OK" or "I am loved" or things like that. Affirmations to just help me keep breathing. But when I also pour out the heartbreak and the pain I'm feeling into my journals, it's not to heavy to hold anymore. I want to do this daily, but I don't. I'm going to work on that! I LOVED this lesson. The price of the year worth of classes was worth this single lesson.

And so, six months after starting it, this spread is finished and I love that I kept working it and made it into something that works really well for me. (Oh, and I carved the big letter stamps. I know, they're amazing!)

A fish...

Someone on Facebook posted a silly fish that was the inspiration for this guy. I thought it was Jody Ohl, but then I couldn't find hers when I went back to make sure, so I could be wrong!

I journaled a little about feeling like a fish out of water. I've been thinking about this a lot. You know how people will stand in front of a statue or a monument and have someone take their picture as if the monument is somehow enhanced by their presence? I don't do that. I also do NOT find more enjoyment in an experience when someone is with me. I would RATHER go to a movie alone. I would RATHER wander around a new place alone. I would rather experience things for the first time alone. Because there is no one to gauge my reaction. A MILLION times I've leaned over in a movie theater to say to a laughing friend "I don't get it" and they whisper back "Me, either". But they laughed because people were laughing and somehow this makes ME the strange one. 

Funky face!

She started out pretty enough:

But her shading went a little crazy!

Believe it or not, I did work her a little more:

The strange thing is, I don't mind that she's funky. At all. Once upon a time, I would rip anything "imperfect" out of my journal - like anyone but me was ever going to see it anyway. (OK, you guys do, but you know what I mean.) But I really like her, imperfections and all.

So I grunged her up a little and added some journaling in the teal part with a shiny green pen. Voila!

And so are you