My hat is off to you.
I wish we could sit down together over a long cup of coffee and remind each other that it’s going to be okay. That we will be okay and that God is bringing us through.
Some days when I’m bone weary, I think about you — laboring well after everyone’s in bed.
I think about you making hundreds of decisions by yourself.
And facing daily new that you never expected and surely never wanted.
I think about you figuring out a hundred things that he used to do or letting it go because it’s just too hard to figure out.
I think about you anesthetizing lonely evenings with the mindless screen, willing yourself to cheer the anniversaries of friends, the happy-birthday-to-my-best-friend-who-completes-me pictures, the snapshots of boys hunting and father-daughter dances your own will never see again.
That heaviness you carry? You’ve gotten used to it.
You’ve gotten used to knots in your neck and thoughts that can’t be switched off, swirling between the must-do’s of today and the what if’s of tomorrow.
And while you smile to everyone else and put a brave face on mothering, I see the heaviness that’s always with you. God sees it.