So, right after the year on-site, there's another anniversary to "celebrate": my mother died a year ago today.
What struck me most, going through the day, was just how far my life has come in the intervening year.
Last year, I had to sneak over to see her the day she died. No one from my family could contact me to tell me that she had passed for two days, and then they had to come to the house because they didn't think it would be okay to phone. Last year, I spent the next two work days in bed, depressed beyond functioning.
Today, I went to the mountains, hiked somewhere alone that Mom and I had been together, and let myself remember. This year, I have a network of friends, a purpose, a reason to live.
This year, there is hope.
I just wish she had had a chance to enjoy it with me.