|Goodbye, my love.|
My girls and I watched through the window as Mama drove away. They didn't fully understand the gravity of what was going on, but I imagine my tears were telling them something was not normal. I believe they were thinking she is just taking the car and going to get something for us all. They do not realize she will not be coming back. They pat me on the back, give me hugs, and then are off to play.
That's right. She's gone. Mama is gone.
I appreciate your continued support as I hunt and peck away at the keyboard to tell stories. I hope I've amused you over the past six months. I don't know when the humor may return. I'm struggling through this black period of mourning as the reality sets in. I apologize for any typos as the tears make the keyboard difficult to see.
I'm alone with my girls. A newly single father tasked with raising two beautiful girls. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, or how I'm supposed to do it, or even if I can do it.
I should've seen this coming. I should've done more to prepare myself for the possibility.
We got through dinner, but I'm not ready to do bath time on my own. I'll need a lot of help, but I don't know where to turn. I can put them to bed tonight, but what do I do when they wake up and ask for Mama? They will do that, too. I know it. As sure as the sun comes up, they will ask for their mother and then what do I tell them?
Breakfast will come and go. The same for lunch, and their afternoon nap. When they get up from their nap, and there is still no Mama, what do I say?
How can I explain to them that their mother is not around? How can you explain such grown up concepts of love, loss, and abandonment? When will they realize she is gone? When will they wonder if they'll ever see her again?
I pray for her. I pray she will be safe. I pray she will do the things she needs to do.
Most of all, I pray she'll come back safely.
|And now, the rest of the story.|
What did you think I was saying?
I love misdirection. Oh, how I love it.