I don't know where time gets to, but I do know one thing - time has not erased the fact that I continue to miss my mother each and every day.  Many days are still a struggle.  A struggle to remain upbeat in my thoughts and actions.  My daughter will be fifteen this year...my mother will be gone for seven years. SEVEN years.  I am not sure which astounds me more, the fact that my baby will be fifteen or that my mom has been gone seven years.

I wish I had some profound words to say to you about moving on.  Because I don't.  I fight, daily, with the fact that my girl is grown up.  I fight, daily, with the fact that I miss my mom very much.  If I could have one do over, it would be to be able to have that last phone call with my mother again.  There are so many things that I would like to ask her now.  Things that, seven years ago, I didn't know I needed answers to.  What are these questions?  I'd like to know what my mother's life dream was.  What did she want to have accomplished in her life most...and did she fulfil it? Did she enjoy being a mother?  Did she regret anything in her life?  Is there something she wishes she did that she never got around to?  Did she dread her children growing up like I do?  Sigh.

She has a great grandson now.

Death sucks.  Death hurts the people left behind.  My dad is ready to die.  He has trouble walking and every day is a struggle for him.  I'm not ready to lose him, I'm not ready.  I'm not ready. I'm not ready.