One Day At A Time

One Day At A Time, a photo by Lukasmummy on Flickr.

Via Flickr:
Credits: Layered template (Journal Or Not, Template 2) by Scrapping With Liz and My Story May by Jen C Designs. Font is DJB Baby Bump by Darcy Baldwin.
Journalling reads: Dear Nan, it’s been 3 months since we lost you and to be honest I am still finding it hard. I’m avoiding visiting Mum and the kids, because I know I wouldn’t be able to resist walking past your house and knowing that someone else is probably already living in it breaks my heart. Going there to hand over your mobility aids was something I had been dreading because it would have been the final acknowledgement that you didn’t need them anymore. But seeing builders in your house and not one person even having the decency to tell me the keys had been handed back, made me feel so very sad and angry. I hate him for that you know, and I will never forgive him for not even caring enough to send a text message. Some days are definitely harder than others, the worst ones are filled with random outbursts of tears. Mainly because I feel like everyone else has just moved on with their lives and gone back to acting normal, but sometimes just because I miss you so very much. I still can’t bring myself to delete your mobile number from my phone, so it’s still at the top under my favourites. Every time I make a call I see your picture and my heart breaks a little. Some days I would give the world just to be able to pick up the phone and call you one more time. There are things me and the kids have done that I want to tell you all about. Like Lukas having tonsillitis, or how much of an idiot I made of myself at the school disco. I want to tell you about Logan at nursery and Leia being a little minx. I want to talk to you about the Project Life Giveaway that I won and the fitness boot camp I signed up for, but more than anything else I would kill just hear you say you loved me one more time. I can’t bear to go through any of the boxes from your house, when I packed them I kind of assumed that I was doing everyone a favour by just getting some stuff packed. But you know as well as I do that none of them really seemed to care about the stuff in the same way you did. I tried so hard to try and protect your memory by packing the things I knew were important to you, but still I have regrets. I wish I had tried harder, wish I had been less concerned about touching stuff and causing a fuss with other people. It pains me to think that your net curtains were left up in your house and that no-one seems to know exactly what happened to your Christmas decorations. I sometimes find myself taking out an item of your clothes, just to smell the lingering scent of your perfume and the Lenor on it. I still find myself using strange methods to cope with missing you, working out and organising seem to be my favourites, but sometimes cooking and cleaning get thrown in too. Seems kind of ironic that I turn to what you always wanted me to do as a coping method, but it kind of makes me smile to think I am doing something that would be making you proud of me. I am finding it really hard to scrap my CT layouts, although I did manage to make a couple of layouts yesterday for National Scrapbooking Day. Although I would by lying if I didn’t say that I think you had some hand in the fact that this was my first one ever with no computer or internet issues. I dread to think how many times I have called you feeling furious because the laptop or desktop isn’t working or the internet is playing up when I have been looking forward to it for weeks. I like to think that you are taking care of Leo for me, it’s funny but for the first time since he died I don’t miss him so much. I miss him enough to hurt but not enough to have the moments where I wish I was dead with him. I had an accident yesterday too, Logan caught me in the eye with a bottle brush and it’s all red and swollen shut. Its streaming all the time and I couldn’t help but think of you, and feel slightly happy about the fact that you are no longer suffering with your eyes, or your legs. I would take the pain of losing you a hundred times over if it means you aren’t hurting anymore Miss you, love you Nan.