It's amazing how I'm strong as steel through most everything that's thrown at me... yet there's a few things that will send me spiraling like I was made of wet paper towel. This morning I looked at the calendar, saw that tomorrow is my mom's birthday, and was a wreck all day long. It's been three-and-a-half years now since she died. There are days that it seems as though she passed a few days ago. Then there's days I feel like I've been without her for decades. Today it felt like the latter, and I had to do the mental calculation because I can't believe it... 2019... 2020... 2021. Yep, that's only three years.

And for the hundredth time I feel guilty for being so very grateful that she died before COVID got here. I have no idea how she would have dealt with it. Since she couldn't make any memories, maybe it wouldn't have been so terrible for her? But it would have been a living nightmare for me. Having to visit her at the care facility and only getting to look at her through a window. Worrying that she doesn't understand why I can't come in (assuming she would even recognize me). Feeling like it would be better if I didn't try to visit at all. I get anxious just thinking about it. I have absolutely no idea how people going through this during COVID keep their sanity. I would be in a horrific mental state.

Which is not too far off the mark when it comes to my mental state right now.