I was reading your story and it reminded me of my grandfather. He raised me until I was 8. My mom was there but not emotionally if you know what I mean. I felt like somehow it was my fault he died because he didn't come back from the hospital. Maybe I could have helped do even more for him so I was grieving terribly. I wouldn't eat and I had nightmares. Everybody just said to quit crying so much or whats wrong , go out and play. No one pays attention to an 8 year old at a funeral. I got really sick.No one has ever believed me, but it is true, my Grandfather came to me, maybe I was dreaming , I don't know but he told me " it's going to be alright Little Rosie because that's what he called me". he looked so well and strong and he wasn't bent or crippled any more. I never grieved for him again. from then on I remembered all the good times we had, the things he taught me, and I've taught those things to my children. He didn't leave me and I didn't lose anything. Neither have you honey, she'll always be right there. Don't think of it as a loss but how much you gained when God loaned you an angel for awhile. God bless you.