I realize just how much I don't write in this journal. I feel kind of bad. What if one of my grandchildren reads this and there are so many gaps that they become confused or frustrated? Ugh, the very thought of having grandchildren! Would I even be a good mother? Perhaps a good grandmother. I would likely be the type to give each of my grandchildren too many sweets. Sorry future children!

In all seriousness, I have finally had a real talk with Artie. It feels like ages ago, even now. It feels as though she spends far more time with the first year she's tutoring than she does with me. Perhaps I should fail a class just to get her attention! I would never do that, mother would kill me.

Anyway, it was nice to finally tell her how frustrating her silence is, and to be able to open up with her instead of feeling like there is an ocean between us. Well, I was right in my last entry, it is even more quiet this year. I think it's called moving on. Is that wrong? To move on from such loss? Or are we each terrible people for not grieving for the rest of our days?