Two Months.

I know, it's a serious blog, but whatever. I have the intention of three funny ones right after this. I just felt like I had to talk about this.
I can't believe it's been two months. Or should I say only two months. I feel like it has been so much longer, a century perhaps. Like, I feel my whole life is so different from those weeks beforehand. Like, for the fact that the first time I saw the Jonas Brothers, she was around. If someone had told me I had eleven days left, I don't exactly know what I would do. I could say I would be absolutely devestated, but after so long in the hospital with no end in sight, I think I would've been happy. I would've seen her more. I really don't remember the last words I said to her, the last day I even saw her. I think it was the Friday before. The next day was my nephew's birthday party. I couldn't hang out with friends because that night I was baking, and then party the whole next day. It was Easter weekend. My parents and me did the usual: pick me up at Hazy, then go to the hospital. The rest is really blurry. I guess I blocked out what happened then because I can remember baking later that night, and even watching the new episode of Hannah Montana. Uncle Earl was on it. I took pictures of my cupcakes. I remember a lot of stuff after I saw her with such detail. Maybe because it was something different; not the same thing I saw every time I came in.
Either way, I'm glad I didn't see her the day she went away. I mean, I wouldn't want to deal with that. My mother saw her and got to unknowingly say her final goodbyes. She waited until my brother came home that weekend to see her one last time. I think she knew. She waited until my nephew hit the big year old, before she left.
It really doesn't feel like just two months. I mean, I can look back on my journal and see my tear-stained pages of almost four months ago when they said it was the end. I had lost it, done things I regret, and she pulled through. Maybe that was kind of when she left for me. The rest of the time was just me getting to see her, value her, and not take advantage, or dread going in to see her. I didn't get to see her too much this last year because of college, since every Monday my mom and me would go in. We would just watch tv. I really didn't know that I would be begging for those simpler times so quickly.
I think my family has done the most changing after all this. I may be wrong; I don't know. I feel like I've grown. It gets hard to deal with my mom some days, and I know she's gone through a lot, but sometimes she can't always be fair. But I think I just have to deal. To let her deal. It'll probably be years before she doesn't have to listen to the answering machine or feel the need to buy something for her every day. I have those needs, but I guess I was already detached from the situation before that I had come to terms with it. I had an extra two months to understand that life isn't fair, but it does make sense. Eventually I'll find a sense in all this. And I'm always hoping she is just hanging around up there, playing Bingo, and making sure we all don't lose our minds.