I’ve already received a few phone calls today about my birthday.  To be honest, it was supposed to be the one day out of the year that I took off, but some work creeped in preventing that from happening.  So tomorrow will have to be that day.

Everybody says I’m still a young kid.  Truth be told, I never thought I’d live this far.  Especially after my cancer and the hell it was going through chemotherapy.  I say my cancer because, dammit, it was mine and you can’t have any!  All joking aside, this last year was more of a recuperative process.  Getting through all of the grief and pain of Phil’s death, moving out of the house, getting the book deal, and the subsequent writing of it all formed together.

There are still moments in the day when I go right back to that moment when I watched him die in front of me.  And then the questions come.  Did I do everything I could to save him?  Could I have?  Was I doing the CPR correctly?

Those moments are fewer and fewer in number.  The time between 30 and 31 went by so fast.  It put a lot of distance between that event and the ones happening now.  So much distance, in fact, that this feels like a wholly different chapter in my life.

Setting up this blog and porting over all of my old posts into it has helped some.  There’s a greater freedom I feel now, that I can talk about those things that everybody around me has no interest in but interest me intensely.  There’s so much more coming up that I want to tackle it all in rapid succession.  The hard way, as it were.  Never took the easy way through anything.

Because anything worth doing isn’t easy.