"Sensitive" question - grieving

This seems like a new thing I'm seeing, how do I say, people not, literally never "moving on" for lack of a better word.  There's a fine line in there somewhere that I can't define, but it seems like there's a difference between grieving, always something missing, yet not ever letting go?

I know the grieving process isn't the same for everyone.  I know there is no set time where enough is enough.  Just some observation and experiences on my part that.....seem a little too much.  

Some examples might be in order.  There's a friend of our family, she's about 65.  Her dad passed at least 20 years ago, probably 25 years.  Yet, any chance she gets, comments rather publicly about how terribly she misses her dad, still cries about him, more things I could add.  I see other people doing it, a dad or mom, and we're talking 10-20 years passing.  

As some on here know, my niece lost a baby at full term 2 years ago.  It was heart breaking, absolutely heart breaking.  I'm not suggesting a parent ever completely gets over losing a child.  It just seems like there used to come a time when people would internalize it, kind of let the dust settle, you still love them and miss them, wonder what an unborn child would have been like, but it goes somewhere beneath the surface.  Was that unhealthy?  Or is it more unhealthy to keep bringing it up all the time.  Last night was a new experience for me: we had a "birthday" cake for that child after dinner.  Complete with 2 candles, one for each parent to blow out.  A loving gesture for sure, but. . . .kinda weird, no?  Then, of course that goes to Facebook, and it gets a hundred comments, broken hearts, you guys are in my prayers every day....really?  Every day?  They live with me right now, and I don't think of it EVERY DAY.  Guess I'm cold? My sister, her mom, commented that her heart was broken beyond repair.  Beyond repair?  You never will heal??

My parents lost their first child at birth, unnecessarily I would say.  Sure, they never forgot him.  They always put a grave blanket down before Christmas.  Once in a while, the story of the day he died would be brought up, but......it wasn't so on the surface, and kept current, it never was.  

This seems a new thing to me.   

In the old days people would have another child, somewhat replacing the lost. What happened with my grandparents. Lost a 17 year old son, their youngest was 9, but went on to have another child. But more currently a cousin on the other side of my family did the same, baby died at term by the ambilocal cord strangling the baby.  Already had one child and went on to have 2 more. I cannot say about my grandparents as I was less than 10 when they died. But seems to have worked for my cousin and his wife.

The current thing is making us all victims of something, then the so called leaders can come to the rescue in some manor.

I personally find great comfort in Christianity, the believe in more than the here and now. But not something you can force on someone, and have it help them. And not a popular thing if you  are into current social trends.  Certain people want victims they are better "useful idots".      

Thank you Dick, makes a lot of sense.  Bless you.

Life does move on. You never get over it, you just learn to move on without. Learning to move on takes longer and is harder for some people

And the rest of us can't get over who won!  Keep the political stuff downstairs!

Kinda nice to see the comments, differences from one to another.

 Never seen either of my parents shed a tear, whither it was was friend, relative or father or mother.  Grandpa was 97 when dad said, 'one day soon grampa will be passing on, So don't be sad for him because he has lived a long life'.  Yea, I already knew that... but yet I cried when he had died as I had for my grandmother and grandfather on my mothers side.   May 6th, 1982 my grandmother of my fathers side passed and I was truly blue and sad, the last of my grand-parents.  On a Saturday we buried her, Sunday passed by with depression in the heart... Monday rolled around and after milking the cows I took off to the fields to plow all day till I was done. Around 3 or 4 o'clock, here came dad in his red pickup truck. I was heading south down the field and had just the trip back to finish the plowing. I had watched clouds come rolling in black in the southwest and blacker to the northwest, could not see straight west for the trees that were about 400 feet away. I grabbed the one cab door and closed it,  then grabbed the other cab door as turning across the end, because the wind and rain was so fierce coming straight in... and I dropped the plow, and closed the back window and headed back to the north end of the field and could see dad standing there. Rain was sheeting off the cab windows and the plow furrow was suddenly full of water and being pushed out by the front tire. I looked across the field and seen dad bent over with both hands up by his face and then he disappeared as two different storms collided in the middle of the field and swirled around and around. Ground didn't have time for the water to soak in and plowed it all the way to the end, and hollered at dad to get in, because he looked like a drowned rat. Drove over to where the truck was and there was a good 6 inches of water standing and told him I would stay till he got out of there and we went home. What a remembrance of an awesome storm where two separate storms collided right in front of us.  For some reason that day, the tears for grandma were washed away, because it felt like she had sent a message to me personally. That may sound crazy but  it was what happened and the spirits were lifted. Dad had been watching the weather radar station that was live back then and the warnings they were flashing.  He had come out to get me out of the field before it hit... but had waited a bit to long to stay dry. LOL. Said when the rain hit, he had to put his hands up over his mouth and nose to breath.  Still miss my grandma but I knew she was 'Home' and sent a message.

    T-bone, there is something about this modern day living... and you wouldn't think that it would cause the inability for some to continue on... but grieve constantly.

When grandpa was going downhill rapidly, I was living ~400 miles from the home and farm.  Dad called me to see if I could come home to visit, which I did.  Except I didn't make it in time.  All of my memories of grandpa, he was pretty much already "old" as he was born in 1899.  Yet, he tried to help dad on the farm as much as he could.  He and I would build fence, he would rake hay, cultivate corn, trim weeds with a sickle.  And he was always the one to get to a gate as fast as he could manage waving at you to stay on the tractor because he'd open and close the gates for you.  So, now, whenever a swinging gate comes shut behind me so I don't have to walk so far or some such thing, I sometimes smile and say thanks Grandpa!