I have to keep refocusing.  I want to slip into the grief the world knows.  The permanent good-bye.  The self-pity so deep it sucks you in and suffocates.

Yes, I miss her.  And parts of my life will be worse because she is no longer in it.  She was a resource of infinite possibilities.  Gardening, sewing, parenting, life.  And I didn’t ask her nearly enough questions.

She was a comfort that would always be there.  Someone who would always back me up, defend me, strengthen me.  And now that’s gone.

Besides her sisters and my brothers, she was the last of my family.  Her parents are gone, my dad’s parents are gone, and my dad decided years ago that he didn’t want a part of my life.

I want her back.  For me. So I don’t suffer.  And really, that’s selfish.  Worldly grief strikes me as selfish.

I’m only at the beginning of this process.  So I know I have much to learn. But I’m trying to remind myself to grieve with hope.  To grieve with thanksgiving.  To grieve with praise.

I said it before, but I need to say it again.  She wasn’t meant to live a life separated from God.  None of us were.  And that’s over for her.  Thanks be to God.

But I still cry.