Two Years

In some ways it seems like forever since IT happened.  In other ways it seems like only yesterday.  

I don't know what to think about that.  Two years for my kids is an eternity.  They don't talk about her or what happened to her, how she was,  or even how she lived here for a while when she was getting treatment.  I don't really want to ask them because they have seen me cry enough.  You know I can't ask without crying.  

I don't think about her as much as I used to.  I don't cry as much as I did 2 years ago.  Am I done railing the injustice of it all?  Done trying to assign blame?  Done wondering what she would have looked like if she had gotten old?   Done imagining the possibility of a grandmother for my kids?   No.  I wish my kids had a grandmother.  I wish I could see my genetic destiny.  I'd rest easier at night if I knew where the asbestos that caused her cancer came from.  And I'll never think I didn't get ripped off in the parent department.

But dammit if life doesn't continue to roll forward.  Kids are born and seasons change.  The world didn't stop spinning like I wished it would. (just for a moment so I could get my bearings)   

I guess it's all part of some bigger scheme.

Comments

[South Beach Steve]

Click, I feel your pain. I have had a really, really tough week this week. This is the first Father's Day without my Dad. It is affecting me a lot more than I would like to admit. I am tearing up now as I write this. Stay strong.

[danelle]

2 years? Wow, seems like just a few months.
Don't worry about letting your kids see you cry. Better that than later breaking down completely and them being surprised, thinking it never bothered you.

[Pippa]

Hugs to you, Click! I struggle with many of those issues - be kind to yourself this week.