I did not do anything in particular to survive my Mom's death, except continue to stay alive - and some days even that was difficult. I certainly haven’t processed the pain, and I doubt I ever fully will. People say time heals us. Over time it will get better and even easier. But what is easier? Easier to work, sleep or talk about it? I find with time it has become harder. Each day that passes is just another day, another reminder she isn't coming back. It is another day that her voice fades deeper and deeper into my memory - scaring me into thinking one day it will be lost. Perhaps time pushes the wounds so deep into our bodies we become numb to the pain. We put on a smile over time so we don't fall away to our own grief.

The cruel irony of losing your mother is that right after her death is when you will need her the most. I lost my Mom when she was 57 and I was 24. Now I am here, three years later, planning a wedding, buying a house, getting my masters degree... fulfilling my dreams.

So what exactly does it feel like to be grieving three years after a parent died? Grief, throughout the years, is like crazy weather. Sometimes showers and storms pop up when you least expect them. When the storms pop up now though, there is little to do. No one quite knows how to respond anymore. In the beginning the "normal" thing to say to someone is "I am sorry for your loss." The world accepted our grief during the first week, month, and even year. Most of the time now people respond with "you are so strong." I don't blame, nor am I mad at people for saying this. However, that is what is expected of a person grieving - to be strong. Let me be the first to tell you that it is not easy to be strong for a grieving person nor do we always want to be strong. Grief after three years feels like the world is telling you it is time to move on. That is how it feels with long term grief though. The world continues to move on, but a part of you will still always be in stuck in the past. Because I am not sure what hurts more, the shock of what happened or the pain and ache of what never will.

If this all sounds awfully familiar to you, then I am sorry. I wish there was a magic wand that could cure grief.

Time doesn't heal our grief, it doesn't heal our wounds - these will always be there. But, perhaps it helps us accept, helps us grow into a person with a different outlook and teaches us to how to carry on - because after every storm, comes a rainbow, whether we can see it or not.

I miss my Mom more than life. 1 year, 3 years, 5 years, 10 years, I know that will never change.