After my Aunt Billie passed away in May, I had this grand idea to make some changes in my life. I was going to watch less TV, spend more time with family and friends, hug my son more, be a better wife, care a little less about drama at work, show people that I appreciated them, be more spontaneous and adventurous, be a little nicer to cats and do some of the things I'd always wanted to do.
The catalyst for all that was not just my aunt's passing, it was mostly how she never got to skydive. Once she found out she probably wasn't going to recover, we all made plans to go skydiving with her. But it never happened and that scarred me. Ug.
So, here I am, about six months later. I watch less TV. I hug my son more. I am taking a SCUBA diving lesson in November. I've even considering getting my son an outside cat for his birthday.
But not much else has changed, except now my Aunt Erlene is losing her fight with cancer and I'm feeling blah all over again.