I sit alone in an empty house reflecting on what could have been but never will be. I feel sorrowful but I don't despair. Despair comes only occasionally now, out of the blue like the sudden onset of a summer storm. I'm seven weeks into my latest journey; Justin's passing. The time for despair is almost over.
I am most saddened that my three grandchildren knew so little of their parents' love. The oldest, 12 tomorrow, knew only sixteen months of his mother's love. Justin's oldest boy, 4, knew his father's love and delighted in it. He has only happy memories now for which I'm thankful. My heart breaks when I hear him say "I miss my Daddy." I tell him we all do so he doesn't feel alone in his sadness. The youngest boy, just 3 months old, will never remember his dad.
My heart breaks knowing I'll never see Maggie graduate from nursing college or see her walk down the aisle on her wedding day looking beautiful and radiant.
I am somber knowing the earthly pleasures Justin was working on shortly before his demise. He wanted to buy a house and remarry the love of his life. I mourn for her loss as well.
I will never see my beautiful children raise theirs, to teach them what they knew best; to be loving, caring, selfless, reach for the stars adults like they were.
In April when I was saying my goodbyes to Justin, not knowing it would be the final goodbye, I handed him a small amount of money. He said, "Thank you, Mom. I'll be doing this for my children one day." I nodded yes.
It's good to not know when our time will be up. It would take away all our hopes and dreams.
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