Life moves on. . .

It has been a rough weekend - for many reasons.

Today as I was going around the day in my despair a thought crossed my mind - a thought that brought more tears and panic in my stomach.  It it me that life just continues to move on, even when those we love aren't here anymore.  Forward it moves - without them.  Forward - like a car stuck in drive down a hill. . . always forward.

2 years and 7 months have passed since Grandma died.  2 years and 7 months. . . . Life has continued.  Babies have been born.  Marriages have fallen apart.  Her home is crumbling apart with no one in it to love it.  My life has turned into my own version of hell - and she is not here to share any of this with.  The one person I need more than anyone on this planet is gone forever - and I am sick about it.  2 years and 7 months and it still hurts so much to not have her here.

I think of her so much lately.  I think of those long winters with her alone.  No car.  No way to visit anyone - just hoping someone she loves would stop or call.  I think of that day my Aunt Mary died, she said my Grandpa could feel the life leave her hands and asked her to go get the doctor.  I think of the strength she must have had to keep going.  I think of her as a child, cold, hungry, and abused.  I think of that day when my Grandpa died.  My Grandpa, her rock, her only family, and he died leaving her with three little kids.  I remember her talking about how hard it was to have to go home and tell them that their Daddy wasn't ever going to come home again.  I am so trying to draw from her strength. . . .

God I miss her so much.  Sometimes I just want to scream and break things. I want to be able to sit by her grave and talk to her - but I can't.