So, here we are, finally in the last few days of my least favorite month of the year. It always comes as a slight surprise to me, about a couple of weeks in when nothing seems to be going my way, and I just lack the motivation to make a change, that I remember why. Two big anniversaries that have marked my life for years now. One well into its second decade the other almost into its first. They are such a part of me, parentless me, that I actually rarely realize on the days they hit. Regardless, the essence lies there under the surface, and the month often seems to go by quite glumly. I suppose for quite some time, I was pretty sure I had it all figured out. But becoming a mom myself of course opened old wounds. A few weeks a year to feel, remember, honor, is really not much to ask in the big scheme of things. Regardless of the undertone of grief in the past few weeks, there were some great memories made, this trip to Anegada being at the top of the list. I also got back into the teaching saddle, which would certainly make my mom proud. So surely the month was not a complete wash. Still, let’s bring on February please.