Mixed emotions and a mothers love

It's with mixed emotions that I write today.  I had lunch today with my two beautiful children. Now adults,  at 20 and 25 years old.  They are living lives I am incredibly proud of.  They both have autism, which has challenges for them both in different ways. They both work and have friends and live out of home.  They are happy and have their own pursuits and passions that they follow.  I could not hope for more for them.  I am more than proud.
Several years ago when I broke contact with the last of my family members, my mother,  my kids wanted to maintain contact with her.  They have done that.  I see her as no real threat to their safety.  But as I watch them live the lives I am envious of,  the life we could never have lived,  I see their relationship with my mother getting stronger.  My son spends more time with her than me.  At times so does my daughter.  If I want time with them over Christmas,  I have to organise it early so she doesn't take the time I want. 
Our life as a group is changing so much. We will not be driving for much longer,  as it is, we currently only drive locally.  We can't afford,  holidays, fancy things.  We live a very simple life with few friends and people we feel we can trust.  We are constantly looking over our shoulder, hoping we are safe.  We lose days to flashbacks,  body pains, and energy lows when we are bed ridden.  We are many after all.  It is not an easy life at the best of times. 
What hurts the most is knowing that one of the people who made us this way,  who helped to willingly break us beyond repair, is living the life we can only imagine.  What's more,  she's doing it with our children.  She walks free in this world to be exactly who she wants, and we fight for every day to be alive.  We still have days where we consider ending it all.  There are so many days it all gets to hard and we just want to live a normal life.  We haven't of course, because we don't want that legacy for our children.  Our love for them is greater than our wish for release. 
But it is hard, incredibly hard to see the guilty walk free while we fight for every breathe.