I've been thinking of us as approaching the six-month mark

but it's just as honest, and a lot more accurate, to say we're getting near to the one-year anniversary of the last time Mommy left home to go to the hospital.

Fuck. No wonder we've been crying and on edge so much.

I hate this. It's the absolute worst. Do not recommend, would not do again.

Edit: It's also the three-year anniversary of the shutdown, which of course is inextricably linked to my mother's final decline and also its own memories of stress. JFC. Listen, if I'm pissier than usual, please accept my apologies.