Behind a face of coping lives a deep sadness that simmers within a grief laden heart.
Tears fall, un-witnessed, into a void where hope clings and is nourished.
My boy is still missing. Cast adrift.
Time and opportunity ticking by.
Life, getting shorter.
Silence deafening, resounding.
When I was raising 4 young children spanning a 10-year age difference, I didn’t know the stress and anxiety was just a fleeting moment in my life. A husband busy working to keep us fed and housed. I often felt neglected and alone with the burden of being a mother and housekeeper and later holding down a job.
I could not see a light at the end of the tunnel. Looking back it was the most important fulfilling time of my life. When I was the center of my children’s world, and my home was our safe haven. I didn’t know that with all the ensuing stresses, school, job, making dinner, taking kids her and there. Finding the money for trips and clothes and shoes. All the anxieties.
It was temporary. A short time in a long life. Now they are grown and gone with families of their own.
One is gone it seems forever. So how I wish I could reverse time and go back to those hectic frantic exhausting times. When I had all my little eggs in one basket. When life was whole. Treasure the moments because time moves forward regardless so don’t wish away the best of it. It’s not forever.
