Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I did a lot of crying last night, after our younger son told us they were moving to Seattle at the beginning of December. I knew they were going to move to Oregon, but this is even farther, and we will not be able to see them because they will be in a pod with our daughter-in-law's two brothers, their wives and their four children. All the children will do day care together. It's a great situation for them, and we said so, but it leaves us with no pod. No babysitting, no face to face with another human being. The babysitting has given me structure and purpose, and delight while I've been grieving about my daughter. Now we cannot see any of our kids or grandkids. I know many others are in this same boat, but we are talking about another year or two, and we are getting older by the minute. Part of me feels I will never see any of them again. It's terrifying. The worst is if we somehow get sick and we have no family to help us at all. No siblings or aunts or uncles or cousins. We will die alone, a fate that horrified me when we were taking care of our daughter, and that thankfully she didn't have to experience. I'm listening to my dharma teacher, will keep my walking and talking on the phone, but now I need to find a pod, because I am the opposite of a "loner". I'm sure I'll figure this out, but right now a river of grief is moving me down river, helpless and no knowing where the water will take me. The essence of being human, but so painful.