Moving day

Today we began moving my stepfather, or 'Pop', as we all call him..into his new home.
We barely made a dent in the move. Tomorrow we have movers who will do the lifting and loading, which will help a bit. This is difficult enough.
It hasn't even been two months since my mom was killed.
Since then all of my parents belongings, save a few pieces of furniture and necessities, have been in two large storage bins. That was the plan..to store their things until they found their new home up here. Instead, it is only one of them moving into a new home.
The one moving wasn't even the one who wanted to be up here..my mom did.
But Pop is staying here. He has no one back in Florida..and a just a few of us up here.
I am trying to be strong through all this..but it is so hard..
Especially seeing and holding things that were last touched by her. She so carefully wrapped and boxed up their belongings. I feel like my heart is getting torn out over and over again.
I know I have talked of losing my faith...this hurt just renews that feeling.
I will keep searching though, looking for answers..and a peace..that I may or may not find.
Because I really would like it back.

A work in progress

So thankful for that heartbeat at my feet..(actually two of them).
They bring a smile to my face on my darkest days..

Searching for what I used to believe to be true.

There is such a hole in my heart..a total emptiness that I don't see being filled, ever.
I am trying to be better at this, but how do you do that? My future held so many happy thoughts and plans that included my mom. She had lived away from me for so long, I was thrilled at the prospect of seeing here almost whenever I wanted to...taking walks, going shopping, spending holidays together..seeing her enjoy life. She was a young mom..sometimes it felt like we were friends..or even sisters..
But that is all gone.
So yes, I must find a way to deal with it. I can't say I have made it one day without tears since she died, but I have tried.
I can say that my belief in God, is gone for the moment.
I am someone who thought she had a strong faith. It was always so easy to imagine my dad, who I lost when I was 16, as still being with me in some way. But, was that to appease myself..to make myself feel better? I don't want an illusion in my mind, one that may not exist..to give me a false feeling that there is something beyond all this. I guess what I am saying, is..I want her to be at peace..to be happy and be pain free. I don't want that last breath she took to be the last consciousness of her soul. She deserves so much more. Her life was often not a happy or easy one. I so want there to be an afterlife where she is experiencing joy. But I need to feel that in my heart..to feel that an afterlife exists..and believe it down to my very being..I do not feel that anymore..I am afraid to..because what if there is nothing..My nightstand no longer has the latest Jodi Piccoult books on it..it is cluttered with books about heaven, crossing over and life after death..yes, I am not willing to give up on these things..but I am not willing to believe them again either, so I will try to search..my heart, my soul..and the words of others.
I never thought I would have to question such things..I know others have had to, others have been through horribly, tragic losses..I could have never imagined their grief..until now.
I find myself searching for ways to fill this emptiness.
Whatever I find to fill it, it must be something good and true...because that is what I lost..and in her memory I will try to do that..I just need to figure out how.