Monday, January 24, 2011
Guilt, Love, Pain, The Whole Dang Thing
Every day I wrestle with guilt.
No matter how many times people say, "It's not your fault, you didn't choose this," it doesn't matter. I don't have my children 24/7. I only see them every other weekend. You can't imagine what this does to a person's heart, not unless you've been there/done that.
Yes, there are a few pluses. Like, the house is quiet and stress-free most of the time. I don't have to yell at anyone to pick up their socks or brush their teeth.
Still, there are moments when I am inconsolable.
We had the boys on the weekend and it was fabulous. I love seeing them. Sometimes I can't believe they're my children – I touch them constantly, their soft faces, to reassure myself they're real. Such good boys, too. I'm so lucky.
When it was hometime and we had loaded them up into their father's car, I told my ex how much I missed them.
He told me this, and my broken heart shattered: "The boys were camped out with me one night and Sam was talking in his sleep. This is what he said - 'I love you, mommy.'"
That a small boy dreams of his absent mother ... too much to bear.