It’s been the weirdest week here. I’ve run the gamut of emotions: hope, despair, joy, anger, sadness, numbness. It’s a rollercoaster that, frankly, I would really like to get off of.

As for my mom, things remain the same. There were days where we really thought we’d be planning a funeral and then there have been days where we wonder if maybe she will pull through it. She’s a complex case thanks to autoimmune disorders, etc. and it’s been frustrating to see the doctors unable to come to a consensus on what to treat and how to treat it.

On Wednesday I went to my third Weight Watchers meeting. I stepped on the scale and I’ve lost a total of 6 pounds. I feel semi-crazy for sticking with it all during this crazy time, but at the same time it’s been so positive and encouraging, and I physically feel great. There’s so little that I can control right now, but I can control eating healthy and taking care of myself so I can take care of others.  I am letting myself continue on. I feel empowered and resolute.

On Thursday I made the difficult decision that I’d been dreading all week to pull out of attending Alt Summit. It really broke my heart to email Gabrielle and say that I just couldn’t make it. She was beyond gracious and understanding. Alt has meant so much to me personally and professionally and I was so looking forward to it. And because it’s just been that kind of week, my new business cards arrived that same day and then I really sobbed. It wasn’t just about the conference or the business cards. It was … everything.

Friday, I stayed at home with Archer all day and it was a welcome break. I needed to snuggle my baby and take care of my people. Groceries, laundry, all those things that start to go by the wayside. A girlfriend brought lunch and we sat together, laughing about memories from high school.  Then on Saturday I went grocery shopping for my dad and made the drive out to their house. I have dreaded being at their house without her there. But on this particular sunny afternoon, I walked from room to room, inhaling the familiar smells of home. I saw the giant photo of the whole family that hangs over the fireplace. I saw the stacks of her things by her chair and I made their bed, fluffing my Dad’s pillow. Lines of bottles, face creams, lotions, hair stuff in her side of the master bathroom. Everything familiar and the same as it was when I lived there. And I felt peaceful, at ease.

It’s going to be okay. No matter what.

It is going to be okay.