I had a startling thought this morning.
I have been a single mother for five years!
Strange as it may be, I knew that I had been a widow for five years but somehow I didn’t quite connect that with parenting. Of course, I paused for reflection. Benjamin was 6, he will be 13 next year (that thought alone has caused all kinds of interesting reflections). Caleb never even knew his daddy. He has no idea what it’s like to have two parents. In fact, most of my kids have no idea what it’s like to have a two-parent home. They have vague memories and ideas of what they think it means. They have weird ideas like “Grandpa is our daddy” or the nanny is our “other mommy,” but they really have no idea how a two-parent family would function.
Then I looked at my children. None of them have gone off the deep end (they are a bit young for that, I guess). They are well behaved for the most part. They are responsible and capable of many things. They help with the housework and watching out for each other. Sometimes they even think to do something nice for Mom. There are things that we are working on, of course, but who isn’t? It’s not easy being a single parent, but I’m guessing God has been helping quite a bit because I think my kids are doing o.k.
Huh. Five years. We might make it yet.