It’s raining. Inside of me and outside of this house. It’s pouring. It’s flooding inside, not so much outside. There’s flood control out there, not so much inside. I can’t stop crying. My heart aches. My head aches. I’m crying for the whole year I think, having been so strong for my mom since my dad died. Strong through two surgeries. Strong through her breast cancer. Strong through the death of friends… three in the last six months (the dangers of making friends where my mom lives). Strong through her depression and grief. Strong through my own. Now, with L's leaving,  the strength flew away. Now I cry and cry and cry some more. I just let it flow, knowing that in some ways at least it is a healing rain. I won’t cry forever. I know that. Right now it doesn’t feel like I will ever smile again.

 

So maybe this all will help me clear out my stuff. I had a dream, of kids and grandkids visiting me, having fun, sharing meals, sharing games. I have so far been a major failure of being a hostess to them. I hate the clutter. Right now I am thinking about dumping out a box and putting it straight in the trash. I would love to do it to the whole house. I am at the point I don’t care what anyone else thinks, it’s my stuff to do with what I wish. And I wish it GONE.

 

so how am I doing with this? Crying a lot. Not wanting to think about any of it. But can’t help it. Not being with J. and the new sweetie to watch them grow up…. I’ve been looking forward to being there; to help them raise their sweeties, to take care of them, to love them… to spend time with my daughter and her hubby… but it is not to be.

 

Am I overreacting? Absolutely. Because losing my dad and the knowledge that my mom is on the same journey has been very rough already and now with my daughter moving far away the grief of it all is choking me. Many many grandparents live far away from their grandkids. My own parents moved far away from their parents and only saw them EVERY TEN YEARS OR SO. That thought doesn’t help. Just because everybody else deals with it doesn’t make it any easier.

 

Trusting the Lord seems so very far away.  It feels like another rejection, another abandonment. Everyone I love seems to go away or die.. Everyone is just out of reach. Hubby tries to console me, offers to take me there… I am inconsolable. Truth is of course different. I have lots of friends, it’s just that most of them are still in the community I left. I left. I’m regretting that decision more every day. I don’t have my community family any more. They are still there; I am not. Here, I am not connected. I am only really connected to one friend, and she is not the type I tell all my troubles to. Even though I still have my hubby, I feel very much alone.

 

Maybe tomorrow will be better. It will feel good to dump that stuff. I’m going to shove as much as I can stand into the car and drive on over and donate it.  I don’t care if I regret it later. I need to go stomp it into oblivion. Maybe I will be able to tackle five boxes. Ten boxes.I cannot put it off any more. IT MUST GO…. I don’t want to lose any more kids. I need to be more connected. I have to have a place to invite them. If I had done this before, maybe….. maybe she would have stayed. Maybe she would be more connected to her brothers. Maybe she would have had more reason to stay. It makes me feel like it’s my fault. It wasn’t my decision, but…. it feels like there could have been something that I could have done…. something that would have kept them here, instead of far enough away that I won’t see them more than once, maybe twice, a year. JP will forget me. He will hide when I come, he won’t remember the tender times we have had. He won’t remember the time he followed me, stomping just the way I was, until we all dissolved into tears of laughter.

 

I will live through it. I am devastated at the moment but I will adjust. I will have to.

 

My heart says, if only I had agreed to come live with her, stay with JP. while she worked. If only I had I don’t know what. If only her brothers had loved her more. If only, if only. My boys are distant. Of all my kids, I am closest to her. And she's the one leaving.

 

She will go where she wants. Living close to me is not a requirement. I hate it that she is leaving me behind. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

 

I know I am processing a very lot at the moment. It feels like way too much, like it will kill me. It’s all breaking my heart. But the sun will shine, and I will be fine, and I will love the grandchildren within my reach and maybe hold them a little more tightly…