It’s all I can do to make it to the end of some days… Not that I want to wish my life away and not that I don’t cherish my girls.
When it’s day 3 of mastitis and the pain and fever have gone but the exhaustion and the achiness haven’t.
When the phone finally rings and I can hear his voice for just a few moments and I know they have to be enough to sustain me for a few more weeks until the next chance to call comes… When the voice shakes me out of the numb I had started to nestle into and the longing crawls out full force.
When A’s temper can’t be controlled and she lashes and lashes and lashes hurting her sister in ways that scare me and then screaming and pleading and tantruming until she leaves us both wrung out and spent. When she pushes and pulls me. When I waffle on giving her comfort in her consequences and letting her feel what alone feels like.
When the missing of Daddy becomes more than she can bear and C collapses onto her bed bereft of Daddy’s hugs and kisses and curls into a ball screaming for her Daddy and my heart breaks in two.
When C leaves “loved notes” on my pillow that slay me in their sweetness and break me in two with her first-grade brave spelling of, “I noticed you’ve been sad since Dad’s been gone. I love you. C”
When I finally sink down to let it all go and I hear the baby’s plaintive cry. She needs mama too and mama is plain wrung out…
On these days it’s all I can do to make it to the end. And I wonder how I can keep waking up and doing it again for these long months to come.
But I will. By grace I will. Somehow the strength will be there. And not all days are like this.