Keep going.

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This morning I slept in, got up, made breakfast for my husband and my brother, and came home.  We've spent the past week with my mom at her house (which is - luckily - just around the corner from us).  It is great being with my mother, and I know I'll spend a lot of time with her, at her house, in the time to come. Just like I always did, anyway.  Her (their) house will always, in a way, feel like home.

But it was nice to come home.  To my new home.  I've just gotten used to living in my new home with my husband.  It started to feel like 'my' house, my nest, the three of us - him, me and our cats.  A new, extra special family.  

The sun is shining today and I went for a run.  I bought a pedometer and I ran for 20 minutes, taking a few hundred steps. Running is good, and necessary. 

And yes, I'm counting the steps I take each day, because I'm taking each day one step at a time.  This is what coping means to me. Counting steps, for now. 

I'm not going to pressure myself in doing anything I'm not ready for.  I need time - we need time.  And we need to be there for one another.  
So here's to taking one step at a time. 
I trust some of you out there will know what I'm talking about.

Credit:  diane varner

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