It’s inevitable that on any mission something is bound to knock you flat on your back. I knew it. I knew I something would happen that would push me down so hard that I wouldn’t want to get up. But never, never im a million years did I think it would be this bad.
It was supposed to be a plateau. It was supposed to be a vacation of bingeing. It was supposed to be a broken toe. But it’s not, and it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever known.
Last week, my mom, the woman who gave everything and loved unconditionally, passed away. She was the best person in this world, and a life without her is inconceivable. If I could paint a picture for you, I would, but I really don’t feel it would do her justice. The best I can do is teach the many things she taught me as I carry out the rest of this year.
Let me tell you a little bit about my mom, health wise. She was petite, and she owned it. I never heard a bad comment about body image from her – ever. In my most critical moments, she saw the beauty in others. She was always well put together. She was never really on a diet, and she didn’t have a gym membership, but she ate in moderation, allowed herself culinary indulgences, and exercised with her friends.
She did express concern as I grew more rotund, but was kind. She wanted me to be healthy, and I dismissed her too often. Both she and I would have liked to see me fit and healthy, but these last few months I think we were just excited to see each other period. One thing she was always proud of: my writing.
So here’s where I recommit myself to the blog that she never got to read. It’s been 181 days and there are 184 left. I’ve written 132 posts and need to catch up on 49. So this is it.
After all, mom always told me to finish out my commitments. I miss you mom, and I’m finishing what I started.