I just celebrated the 3rd year anniversary of the passing of my mother and her sister. They both left this place of the dying for the place of the living exactly 90 days apart. I often wonder how she felt knowing her life on earth was coming to an end. It is one thing to die and not know you are dying. But to be able to talk and think knowing that your time is winding down must be horrifying. I even wanted to ask her but I could see the fear in her eyes. I didn't have the heart to do it.
I would be lying if I said it has gotten easy for me. It has not! Every April 1st, it feels like I am carrying a ton of bricks because of my anticipation of April 30th arriving; the day my mom left us. I tell myself that she is in a much better place than I am, trying to make myself feel better. Fact is, it doesn't work because I miss my mom. I miss hearing her voice, calling me fussing about everything. But I have to P.U.S.H my way through it (pray until something happens). That something is God reminding me once again, He is still with me. He will get me through this without a doubt. I realize that prayer gives me the strength to go on day after day.