I met another mom today who lost not only her daughter but her husband too. Her husband died of cancer and seven months later her daughter was killed in a car accident.

I have been told through my life so many times "There is always someone else with a harder life, a heavier burden, a sadder story" It is true, it is always true.

The thing about grief is that you are locked in a place where you can not feel anything but your own pain. I have moments where I understand what is going on around me but this broken place is so encompassing and so internal that everything outside of me seems like a dream. I would prefer this be the dream.

There is an ocean in me, a big salty watery place. I float here waiting to be rescued, waiting for land, searching for a life boat. Part of me wants to let go and sink to the bottom where it is cool and quiet and all of this goes away.

I survive. I endure. Not because I am incredible but because I have no other choice. I was not meant to drown, I was not meant to break apart into a million pieces and be carried of by the wind. I was meant to be here and do this thing.

The woman I met has found a sliver of comfort, she has found something to do to keep her hands busy while her heart keeps beating and her mind keeps remembering.

I know one day I will find something that keeps me moving so that I don't notice this big hole in my life, in my heart. The strange thing is what I need most is what I fear most.

This acute moment in time is my prison and my sanctuary.

Memory and tears, it is what must be, for now, I can not imagine anything else.

G