It was always going to be a totally shit time (Part 2)

This time last year my mom's tumor came back.

This time last year we knew the end was coming. Really coming. With an actual timetable - two to three months. (It was two months and 13 days.)

This time last year I wasn't prepared - for how short the time ways, for the neverending tears, for the supportive and loving friends, for her to die.

And this time around I'm still not prepared. I'm not prepared for how much this hurts, even nine and a half months out. I'm not prepared for the tears. I'm not prepared for how exhausted I am. I'm not prepared for how little I feel capable of doing.

I don't know what these next two months and 13 days are going to look like. Or the next months and days after that. I guess I'll just have to be kind to myself, let myself veg and mourn and sleep and cry. I don't really know what else to do to make it bearable.

Except for hugs - I might ask you, friends, for hugs. Because sometimes that's just want you need.