It is THE day

and while I am ok for the most part, I break down and shed a few tears for my mom. Especially when I read the things my nieces and nephews wrote about her. I feel for them and my children because even though they knew her, I know someone of them never really got to learn the true extent of what a wonderful person she was. Not a day goes by in our house when she is not thought of or spoke about. The kids are always asking questions about her. Sometimes I don't want to answer because the pain feels still too fresh, but still do because the only way now they will know her is through me.  My heart breaks almost every time I hear Lauren ask for Wawa (the term in our house for Grandma) because I know she will never use that term for my mom. My kids know how much their Grandma loved Elvis and they love to listen to his music when it comes on. They named our goldfish Elvis and Nick named one of his stuffed animals Elvis because Grandma would have liked it. 

I can't believe two years have already passed since I answered the phone shortly after midnight and heard my big, strong brother sobbing that she was gone. There was a time when I thought I couldn't go on without her, but had to because as it says on her headstone; Life is Changed, Not Taken Away.   No truer words were ever written. I suppose I have more faith than I previously thought, after all, what would have gotten me through these two years? I also have the belief faith that we will be together again, it has to be. 

"There are things that we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go." 

~Author Unknown