Life gets so busy.
I get caught up in the exhaustion of every day living.
The cooking, the cleaning, the noise, the endless amounts of dishes and laundry, the children running around, laughing and playing and getting into trouble- they become who I am and what I do.
Day in and day out, I go through the motions, just barely keeping my head above the water.
I fall asleep at night exhausted but full of love. A wonderful man next to me, 3 beautiful children in the rooms down the hall.
And sometimes it's enough.
Sometimes, I don't really seem to remember what I've lost- WHO I've lost.
But then I find a picture.
|24 hours old|
And it hits.
The pain isn't any less than the day that he died. It's still immeasurable. It's a giant void in my heart that will never be replaced or filled.
But the pain hits less frequently. I've gone on living, breathing, loving, and finding joy. But the pain is always there- threatening to rear it's ugly head.
When it does come, it knocks me to my knees. God, I miss him.
I. Miss. Him.
The every day living has become my saving grace. It has kept my mind and my heart busy, but the quiet moments reveal a still shattered and tender heart.
I'm not sure how the joy and love in my heart can coexist with the pain and sadness, but somehow they do and that is how I have survived my every day life. I've found a way to live with it.