The first night the kids and I came home -to a house that would no longer have a father or husband in it- was a sobering experience. It was that Wednesday. D, who is a very emotional kid, started crying before the front tires hit the driveway. So very sad. We all, sort of, trudged through the nighttime routine in a fog. When the kids were in bed, I walked into my bathroom to the sight of a small innocuous looking spider. (Note: I HATE spiders). The moment was not lost on me. I am now my own spider-killer. LAME!
Thursday morning came with a new and scarier looking spider – hearty and black as sin. Is this my new life?! For the next several days, I was bombarded with reminders that I no longer have a helpmate:
- I’ve had to take out the trash cans and bring them back in.
- I had to put the salt in the water softener. (Note: the bag is clearly too heavy for me to lift)
- I dealt with the Sparkletts water bottles.
- The front sprinkler broke. Had to make sure that got fixed. (thank you Phil)
- The kitchen sink refused to drain. First try? Friends. Solution? Plumber (thanks anyway Kurt)
- Killed 3 more spiders, including one that was actually ON MY BODY!
- I’ve had to water the backyard.
- I’ve shaved D’s head twice. One was successful, the second was an utter failure.
All these things I have to squeeze into my regular mom/wife duties. Take the kids to the doctors, fill out forms for camp and colorguard, get a new alarm system installed, pack kids for camp, take K to summer school and pick her up, take her to colorguard and pick her up, call the exterminator…the list goes on and on.
Am I angry?
I can’t really say. I can absolutely rattle off a list of things that make me angry but I can’t seem to stir up an angry feeling. Not for very long at least. A couple of weeks ago, Josh asked me, “When are you going to get angry?” I couldn’t answer him then and I couldn’t answer you now.
Other people tell me “it’s OK to have melt-downs. You deserve it every once in a while. It’s good for the soul.” I believe that is true but I have to admit that when I feel like it’s time for breaking down and crying, I shuffle pathetically to the bedroom, lay dramatically across the bed and start saying “Lord! It’s not fair!”…..I breathe heavy a couple of times and then…..In a moment of stillness, I look around the room and finally just sigh and get up to fulfill some chore that’s hanging over me. It’s ridiculously embarrassing, People!!
Two Sunday’s ago, I was faced with the task of watching a Disney movie. As the opening credits rolled I KNEW I would struggle with “true love” and all that junk but I also could not deny that just because it didn’t play out for me that way, this time, that other people still have the right to dream of and pursue their own blissful future. I forced myself to sit and endure the movie. When the glorious lanterns filled the sky I’d had all I could handle. I was up and out. Truthfully, I am pretty proud of myself for hanging on as long as I did. That’s progress. Next time, I’ll hopefully be able to take even more of the movie.
Until then, I will take my emotions as they come. (which of late has been during the singing portion of the worship services.) David Platt says that true Worship should have an element of emotional feeling so, I guess I’m right in the sweet spot of emoting appropriately.
Maybe anger and hope cannot dwell together in the same vessel. I choose hope over anger any day. I believe that there is something good for me on the other side of this.