The title I can’t make up.

I have wanted to write. Oh my gosh have I. I just don't know what to say. I don't want to say the wrong things and I don't want to put something out there I will never get back. My will and strength has been tested so much this year and I have learned one thing through it all. Some of it is meant to be private. Pains, hurts, love and laughter. There are times where it should remain private and not for the whole world to see. This society we live in exposes it all. And sometimes it is too much. We don't need to know everything and feel everything so publically. Or at least I don't. 

36bc3f748be6c20369cc908c1998280cMy phone has rang off the hook. The texts were coming so fast and furious the other day I gave my phone to Kyle. I couldn't respond quick enough or give myself time to say the right thing. I came home and just handed my phone to Kyle. I am good with words. But not on this. My words are sad and dark and lack a sense of understanding. How do I have a conversation with someone and then a few days later she gone? There are no answers to that. How do I attempt to explain death to my four year old. Cause frankly I don't want to. 

How do I explain the complications of life to people that ask? No one understands it, unless you lived it. I have lived it. I have been living it and I feel so isolated. I don't feel helpless or hopeless. I feel lost and incomprehensible and I don't know what to do with that. Neither of those I do to well. 

Last night Kyle and I sat in bed with a 17 years of photos and cards. We laughed, we cried and we sat utterly shocked at how much life we have lived in the last year. Hell the last 6 months. The moment is one I want to describe because it is one of those "life moments". But my best description wouldn't come close to explaining how it made me feel. 

The moment you realize you aren't 20 anymore like you were. When the concerns and worries of life were figuring out if he likes romantic movies (he doesn't by the way…haven't been to once since Titanic) and what my favorite food was (Pizza by the way). We are hurdling on the track of life another death. Another burden and grief. 

Each hurdle hits a little harder and feels a little more harder to recover from. The happiness seems bleak and unreachable. But I know it is not. Thank God for my beautiful girls who keep me smiling and laughing each day. 

# 3 tells me on Thursday after I explain Nana's death to them that, "It is okay Mom, your show you watch always makes you cry. It is okay." I am not sure if she thought I was talking about my show or if that was a four years rationale for death in that moment but we all giggled. The giggly type of laugh that is covered in tears and the only thing left is to hug through them. And we did. 

And # 2 who struggles processing big life changes and sees the world so black and white finds herself concerned with the logistics of a death. How does it happen, where do they go and what it means to physically move on. 

And my # 1 who probably feels this loss more than the other two. More time spent with Nana and old enough to have her own relationbship with her. She is the one I worry about. So quiet and so much like her Daddy who doesn't talk. 

Life goes on and no one understands this more than my family this year. But it is hard. It is hard. That is all I can say. It is so hard. 

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