• 03Aug

    I find myself apologizing to Dan on a regular basis lately. 

    For instance, I find the pressures of running a house and a family to be such that it’s difficult for me to just stop and play with the kids (didn’t used to be quite so hard).  I used to grouch at Dan for not spending enough time with them.

    Sorry, Honey.

    Another example – I see the trash is full as I run past it, arms outstretched to avert another disaster waiting to happen, and I see it again as I go by, my arms loaded down with things that need to be somewhere else.  It’s when that piece of paper falls to the floor the second and third time that I realize that it also qualifies as an emergency and that crying baby will just have to wait while I take the trash out.

    My apologies, Sweetheart.

    Even now – I look at my desk, covered with projects, bills, tasks to be done and I wince and wish I could somehow beg for forgiveness for even thinking a disparaging thought about Dan’s desk.

    It’s amazing what “walking a mile” in someone else’s shoes will do for a person’s outlook on life.

  • 03Aug
    Categories: Grieving Comments: 2

    The longing for his touch is so great that I find myself avoiding my bed tonight.  The desire to hide in a romance novel or a sappy movie is stronger than my desire for sleep, but I’m still fighting.  Unfortunately, it is the children who suffer from nights like this.  Mom gets grouchy and testy without her sleep.  I find it difficult to handle their need for hugs when my quota is so low.  It’s strange . . I’m longing for a hug, but don’t want to be touched. 

    Afraid I’ll break, maybe?

    Looking for a specific hug and imitations just won’t do?

    Need a “big people” hug rather than multiple little hands and faces demanding more from me.

    I think I’ll sleep on the floor.