And once there were three

Life is changing everyday, every hour and every minute. Once I lived in a house with all the luxuries a woman could want. Behind the scenes I endured unimaginable abuse, but what kept me alive and with hope was the bond of the three. My two daughters and I. Going through chemo and enduring abuse were manageable because I had their love to carry me through.
I looked forward to the little escapes we planned and loved to cook for them on Sundays.
Just having them near, gave me strenght to endure any pain of the disease or pain inflicted upon me.
I live in an apartment with Jenny. We do not have fancy furniture, a backyard, and we share a bathroom. We have to wait our turn to use the complex washing machines and hope that our clothes dry in the allotted time. I am learning to live on a small pension and no longer can indulge on luxuries of before. Now each purchase is thought about....shopping for groceries at dollar stores to find the best bargain. Sundays are no longer special for the three. One is missing......and has moved on. We speak via emails during the week, and are no longer a priority in her world. Jennifer and I try as hard as we can to keep a connection. She is my roommate, my last one before the three is no more. I gave up my pension to provide tuitions and now have no backup monies. I had thought that I would not be forgotten once carreers took off, but should not have counted on that. Alimoney is non existant.....I sometimes wonder if escaping the violence is worth what I have lost? Do tears matter if no ones sees or feels them? I hang on tight to my last daughter knowing though that she soon will move on.....and there will be only me. My future uncertain and without promise. I have a diseased body that will one day give up.
I ask God if happiness is something that is not meant for me. Perhaps only some are happy in life and others are meant to suffer so there is balance. I don't know the answers...but wish I did.