Anastasia Marie Backstrom

Each day I carry on...

I recently received an email from a father who's son was pronounced brain dead. My soul hurt - for him, his son, Anastasia and yes, even for myself. I don't know what my greater purpose is. Someone or something keeps me from driving my car off the road or buying that gun. I don't expect pity, I just want someone to understand. That's why these pages are here. My life is not just filled with pain. I have those that love me and those I love. I have danced on the ocean shore. Yet, even the person that drove nearly a thousand miles just because she was worried about me does not comprehend what I feel. The person that I spent the last seven years of my life with never understood me. I want people to know that I love, I hurt, I cry, I need. Sometimes there are bad days, weeks and even years. I survive, I will find my purpose. There are people in my life that I thought I would never see again, but they have come back. There are those that I want so desperately to understand but they may never. A part of my soul, a part of my dreams, is buried in the cold ground. That is my curse, that is my tragedy.