Living is a whole new adventure when you suddenly find yourself alone, widowed and the mother of four young boys a lot like their Dad.
Loss Creates Space
It never stops hurting and often feels like hope is a thing of the past.
I Know
It’s been an hour since I’ve seen my baby. He’s usually toddling around following one of his brothers or sometimes doing his own thing. I hear him in the background of everything I’m doing. This morning I’ve been writing, cleaning up the kitchen and planning a future full of amazingness. I’ve done all this while putting groceries away and making phone calls, all at once, yeah, welcome to an hour in the life. All this, while I’ve been contemplating a relationship I have and how to show up in it. Things of the heart, they take your attention, yet, I’m still aware of my kids, each one of them, always.
Eyes Tell the Story of Experience
When I look at pictures of my boys, I look at their eyes. I see their innocence. In the eyes one can see all what’s going on in the soul. I always seen a sense of naivety appropriate to their age. Its part of what adults cherish in the eyes of children. The naivety comes with not knowing the pain of loss, loss that ultimately happens in life if you are in it for very long.
