I should know better than to mourn the loss of something that was never there.  But I do mourn it.  Deeply, painfully, slowly, and at times, unbearably.  The weight of the lies, the deceit– the wreckage– the sorrow and hurt of my children.  It weighs down my heart so heavily it feels sometimes like it may drag me under.

This is a heavy load.

A deep grief.

I have to believe that it will get easier, and I pray that it does.

At times there seems to be no bottom.

When my daughter screams at me that she hates me over and over I cannot help but feel angry at him.  I blame him for all the turmoil and grief and sadness.

But of course, I realize there is no blame.

It just is.

No amount of blame will change that or fix this.

What’s done is done.

I am saying goodbye to a life I never thought I would say goodbye to: one that I committed to for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer.  That was the bargain that I made.

In the light of the candles tonight I was looking for something to pull me out of the darkness.  It’s thick and deep.  I can’t see through it.  I know the sun will rise.  I hope it’s sooner rather than later.

Sitting with my grief and pain is the only way to go through it.  So here I sit.




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