So Joel has been in heaven for 6 months. Karl and I both feel a tiny bit accomplished. We've made it so far. Karl says "If I can make it through 6 months I can make it through a year." I say "If I can make it through 6 months I can make it through 6 months and a day." I honestly think we are all still mostly numb. Yes, all the "firsts" are rough. Isaiah turned 15, Easter, Mother's Day, end of the school year.  We keep our heads down and power through. What else can we do? We try not to give anniversaries any more power than usual to interrupt our fragile peace. It's just another day without Joel. Every day is another day without Joel.
Mother's Day was incredibly painful. I was warned by other bereaved moms. But wow I was not ready for how horrible that would be. Thank you to anyone who prayed for me that day. 
I realized today that I haven't popped popcorn on the stove since before the accident. We used to do that all time. Joel was pretty good at it. He was our pancake maker, grilled cheese perfector and also my barista for making a fresh pot of coffee when the morning was busy. Having him missing from our lives is such a gaping hole. We constanly work to choose to be grateful for what we have. We have 4 other amazing kiddos who need our love and attention. It's super weird but I'm incredibly thankful for laundry. First of all, when you wash your child's very last load of dirty clothes knowing that he'll never make any other clothes dirty again- it changes you. Also, wash, dry, fold, put away. Mindless work. But when laundry day comes around again I know- we made it through another week. Whew. Praise God.
I'm inspired by people I have met in person, through a book or online who have spent years suffering and choose every day to praise God and offer their suffering as an offering, all the while leaning on Him for strength. I know that many grief suggestions involve friends coming to sit in silence. I personally have no interest in that. As I wander through this emotional desert, I find the only thing that will give comfort is scripture, that is God's word in the Bible. Satan comes at me frequently with depression, anxiety, despair. (I have discussed a prescription for anit-depressants with my PA but we both agree that so far that is not necessary.) God shows up for me Every. Time. when I cry out for "the peace that transcends all understanding". I recently listened to the entire book of Job and while I concluded that I have not lost anything close to what Job lost (all his wealth and all 10 of his children), I was dismayed to find that I now understand everything he cried out to God as he lamented and questioned. "Yep, been there, said that." 
So if you're wondering if I am "feeling better", no. Absolutely not. And yet. I hold on to my hope. Not with my own strength but with God's. My Good Father's. My Comforter, Strength and Guide. And because I believe that He is good, I believe that I can trust Him. I have hope for a future. 
Suddenly song lyrics that I have sang for years take on brand new meaning: "I have this hope in the depth of my soul. Through the flood and the fire, You are with me and You won't let go." -Tenth Avenue North
I feel like these have been a bunch of random thoughts, so thanks for reading. Writing helps me to process. I will end with a bit of Psalm 27, which has been my go-to for the last couple of days. "I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord, be strong and take heart. And wait for the Lord." Every day is one day closer to my happy ending- hugging Jesus and hugging Joel. Peace and love to you, my friends.