Meadville

It has finally hit me, now that we are home. I am grieving now. I am deeply saddened that I will not see Grandma again here on earth. My children will not know her, will probably not remember her. I will probably never see the house again, never be amazed at the ingenious little things rigged up by Grandpa, never again wonder what is hiding in the attic (those treasures were amazing to discover!), never again sit in the kitchen nook for lunch. I will never again receive a letter from her, with news of the weather in Meadville and what plants are growing in their yard. No more fruit cocktail, not that we have had that for awhile now.
I have often asked God why we are so far from family. Why does he not provide a home and job for us near our parents? I would love for my children to grow up having Sunday dinners at Grandma's, learning to sew or cook or fix cars or build a birdhouse or any number of other wonderful things that Grandma and Grandpa seem to have time to teach. It would be nice to let their cousins be their best friends. Is it enough to see family two or three times a year? To call once a week? To email whenever?
It was so nice to see everyone again. It's too bad that time was short. I wish we could've stayed longer, talked more, helped more.
There's so much more I'd like to say, but I don't know how to say it...