It won't end, the list of things to do after my mom died. The ends to wrap up that keep going that hurt. The things I can't bring myself to give away or go through because it's too hard. The elephant in the room every time I walk in because there is a Rubbermaid container of things of hers that I packed the week after she died that I can't bring myself to sort, find spots for and put away. I have to call on bills again so we can begin the process of closing out the estate, her estate. I need to do this then at least they'll be done but at the same time then they'll be done. It will be over, it will be like she wasn't here on paper. I'm too young to do this. You shouldn't have to do this for your parents until you're in your 50's at the very earliest. I'm 28 in a month. She won't be here to celebrate with me. Birthday's where always a big deal because she made them a big deal and yet as it gets closer I just want to run and hide. I have to start going through stuff and letting some of it go at least but it's so hard. I've given myself until Jan., until the year mark but I need to do it now so it's not hanging over my head anymore but I don't want to. It comes in these rolling hills of pain, the grief. It's less frequent now but something will trigger it and even against my best attempts it comes out. It's gone from crying everyday to maybe once or twice a month but I'm so sick of it. I pulled out Gilmore Girls to watch months ago and James liked it so now it's the show we go to when he's upset or needs to calm down before bed. It was the show I shared with her. People used to refer to us, me and her as the Gilmore Girls at one time. I miss her and I hate that this has to happen, I hate all the emotion and crud we have to sort through now. I hate that I can't protect my little brother from this pain. I hate the US Congress because they wouldn't outlaw the horrible stuff that caused her to get terminal cancer. I hate the executives that choose to use the crap because it would make them a profit and the risk was worth it. I hate that she left us so quickly after she was diagnosed. I hate that I wasn't there to hold her hand as she took her last breath on this earth and her first in heaven. I hate that I was only 27 when she died and not 50 or 60. I hate that James won't know his Nana. I hate that I can't call her when he gets sick and get her to reassure me that he'll be okay. I hate that she left me before I was ready to say goodbye. I hate being strong and faith filled even though I know it's the right thing to do. I hate that she's gone. I hate the days when the sadness overtakes me or I let it overtake me which ever you want to say and my test gets tight and I cry an ugly cry until I can't cry anymore. I hate that she's gone before I was ready to say good bye. I have to go face the bin of bills and paperwork now and another bin of random things I packed up not knowing what to do with. I need to at least do one or two things. I wish I could allow myself to hide it in the back of the closet far away and forget but I can't, that's not me. That's not who she raised me to be.