I’ve been away too long.

I've been away far too long.  From my blog, from writing in general.  From life.

The past six weeks have been busy, full of muddled emotions.  The experts agree their are five stages of grief, but that doesn't meet they come in an orderly fashion.  Anger and sorrow play off each other pausing only when the intensity turns into numbness.

It's been three years, but I'll never get over the death of my mother.  Seeing signs that the rest of my family has only hurts more.  At my grandmother's wake a few weeks ago, everyone thought it would be comforting to hear that they were now reunited in heaven.  That is was all part of God's Plan.  Bullshit.

It might be selfish; it might make me a bad person, but I would so much rather they were here.      

Their absence is a pain that will always linger.  Sometimes quietly and sometimes screaming against the storm, but always there. 

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