It has been a week since Donna and Aaron have moved out and I haven't shed a single tear in two days. In fact, I walked into their old bedroom and instead of ghosts of them, I saw possibilities of how I could set up the room to better serve my needs.
Does this make me a bad Mom or just resilient? It's not that I don't miss them, I do, terribly! I guess it must be that to continue to mourn their leaving is just as harmful to me as it is for them. I am still sad when there is something I want to tell her and she's not there. I'm not sure when it is appropriate to call or text anymore since I don't know her work schedule and I don't want to wake her. We'll get into a rhythm soon (hopefully) and it won't be so hard, but for now, it feels like being in limbo or walking on sand, the footing is definitely not secure.
Anyway, just thought I'd report this, I guess to make it more real to me.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Tears
It didn’t really hit me until I came home and walked in the door. Their rooms are so empty. I've woke up in the middle of the night knowing my life will profoundly, never be the same. I know you understand the relationship that Donna and I have. You share one the same with Heather, Cyndi.
They are not just our children, they are that first one, that first child. The one who made you understand, come to a revelation that there was someone in this world that you would do anything for to make sure their safety was ensured. The one that made you grow up suddenly and become a lioness and a bear for them. They taught you a love so fierce that it’s indescribable. Once you had them, you knew that your life would profoundly, never be same. They paved the way for the other children, they were that little, helpless being that made you feel such joy, just holding their tiny little bodies in your arms, that you thought you might pass out from it. And each one after that, you knew just how precious they would be to you.
So how do I reconcile my nights and days now? How do I get up in the morning knowing that I'm...I've had literally 4 or 5 words come to mind and they are all inadequate to describe just of what little use I am in her life now. She has to be left alone to become the woman she is meant to be. She is not an experiment to poke, tweak, or adjust so that she is continued to be molded into what I believe she should become. She has to walk this part of the journey apart from me in order for her to solidify into a fully functioning adult, capable of handling all that life throws at her.
Don't get me wrong, she is ready for this, I'm not. I'm not ready to let her go! I accept in my head that I have to, I really don't have a choice in it. But my heart, that traitorous, self indulgent thing, it just refuses to accept that fact. It finds new ways to make me weep and mourn my new status as a bit player in Donna's life.
Right now, I understand why cutters cut themselves. At least then I would have physical pain to focus on right now. That I could channel this ache in my heart into a tangible thing that I could nurse and eventually heal from. I'm way to chicken to ever do it, it wouldn't solve anything. I know that I am a realist and will eventually pull up my mental socks and keep on trudging until I can get over this.
But right now, right now I have the biggest, dullest jagged knife in my heart. That twists and twists, bringing with it new shocks of pain and sorrow with every twist. Bottomless wells of tears slide down my cheeks, and the pain just does not dull. I'm sure it will, I've had more than enough experience with heartache to know that I will be able to move on. That God and time will help to heal my soul.
Now, here in this seemingly endless hour of self pity and despair, it feels like it will never end.
They are not just our children, they are that first one, that first child. The one who made you understand, come to a revelation that there was someone in this world that you would do anything for to make sure their safety was ensured. The one that made you grow up suddenly and become a lioness and a bear for them. They taught you a love so fierce that it’s indescribable. Once you had them, you knew that your life would profoundly, never be same. They paved the way for the other children, they were that little, helpless being that made you feel such joy, just holding their tiny little bodies in your arms, that you thought you might pass out from it. And each one after that, you knew just how precious they would be to you.
So how do I reconcile my nights and days now? How do I get up in the morning knowing that I'm...I've had literally 4 or 5 words come to mind and they are all inadequate to describe just of what little use I am in her life now. She has to be left alone to become the woman she is meant to be. She is not an experiment to poke, tweak, or adjust so that she is continued to be molded into what I believe she should become. She has to walk this part of the journey apart from me in order for her to solidify into a fully functioning adult, capable of handling all that life throws at her.
Don't get me wrong, she is ready for this, I'm not. I'm not ready to let her go! I accept in my head that I have to, I really don't have a choice in it. But my heart, that traitorous, self indulgent thing, it just refuses to accept that fact. It finds new ways to make me weep and mourn my new status as a bit player in Donna's life.
Right now, I understand why cutters cut themselves. At least then I would have physical pain to focus on right now. That I could channel this ache in my heart into a tangible thing that I could nurse and eventually heal from. I'm way to chicken to ever do it, it wouldn't solve anything. I know that I am a realist and will eventually pull up my mental socks and keep on trudging until I can get over this.
But right now, right now I have the biggest, dullest jagged knife in my heart. That twists and twists, bringing with it new shocks of pain and sorrow with every twist. Bottomless wells of tears slide down my cheeks, and the pain just does not dull. I'm sure it will, I've had more than enough experience with heartache to know that I will be able to move on. That God and time will help to heal my soul.
Now, here in this seemingly endless hour of self pity and despair, it feels like it will never end.
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