It's a living death. That is the only way I know how to describe it. I no longer cry for my youngest son or older granddaughter. Maybe, I am getting use to them being gone or perhaps I am coming to some sort of acceptance. It feels like another world. Things are all very different. I am getting ready to leave and visit another son and another granddaughter today. That son really misses his younger brother however he seems to be coming to some acceptance as well. I am sure his little daughter helps ease the pain. As a matter of fact, I believe God sent this precious gift to my family to bring hope and comfort that life goes on despite adversity and somehow we all learn how to survive. I cannot help that I am a deep thinker and I write serious thought provoking posts. I have always been this way and have always kept a written journal since I was 14 years old. I graduated from notebooks to an online blog.
Why do I bring all this up at this particular moment? I was organizing my Christmas ornaments and came across an ornament with a picture of my youngest son and his daughter on a Phillies baseball. They were both at a Phillies game and they were both laughing as my son held his daughter in his arms. I often wonder if Ava misses him. If she wonders where he has gone. I often wonder if she misses me and wonders where I have gone. Indeed it is painful to write let alone think too long on it so I need to move right along and keep looking forward instead of being pulled backward. Today is a good day. I will hold onto that.