Diary of a Mad Woman Gone Sane

Good day to you all. I hope this finds you well. Kids are returning to school, and summer is apparently coming to a close. The days are not as hot in the presert, and the nights are becoming cooler. We've had a little rain, but not nearly enough. The rain has mostly just made it humid. And, yes, the usual dry heat here is very different than when it's humid. I've cleared the 10 days of hell for the 7th time. The fog is beginning to lift on my widow brain. At this, and other tough times, I find that the best thing I can do is to be grateful for the things that aren't shit. I have food, and shelter, and clothes, and animals, and people who love me. I have flowers and trees and food growing in the sand. I am in decent health, all things considered. Gratitude helps to remind us how blessed we are. Not focusing on how much life can be a fucking dumpster fire. It feels like when I am struggling, life becomes more challenging. It must be Murphy's Law. This set

On August 5th, 1996 a guy walked into a bar. Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke. He had on plaid shorts, a striped shirt, and a baseball cap. I had no idea that this man would change my life forever, but I'm so glad he did. We had nearly 21 years of amazing and awful, thanks to a terrible illness called Multiple Sclerosis, and later Dementia. We were blessed with love and joy, mostly. He was my best friend,  my husband, the father of our son, my biggest fan, my greatest adventure, the love of my life, my entire world. He was one of the few men I ever trusted completely. He treated me with respect and patience, even when I was behaving like an asshole. He loved that I am intelligent and he was my loudest cheerleader. He made me believe in myself. He called me his wonder woman. He believed in me. Today I miss him terribly, but I'm so grateful for his existence in my life. Tomorrow is what would have been his 51st birthday. These days are difficult without him, bu