Hands

Dear Mom,

Yesterday I had an amazing day.   A morning walk with a friend.   An afternoon at the beach with both kids.   An evening swim with Cooper and Dave, all topped off with yoga on the beach and a great sleep.
  
This morning I had a good morning.  Nice visit with dad, nice session with my therapist.

And now.  For the past hour or so, I've been noticing symptoms in my back and stomach making me worried about the lower dose of Ativan.  But mostly I just feel like crying.   I feel lonely.  Sad.   Unmotivated.

I called dad to see if he would watch the kids for a few hours tonight so Dave and I can have a date night.   A walk on the beach, an appetizer and a dessert on a patio.   Something special for just us.    He goes in for his vasectomy tomorrow.    What a full circle, huh?   Crazy, I can't even believe it.  It's so strange the way life works out.

But mom.  I wish I could shake this feeling of wanting to cry.  Of being down.  Of slipping back.    I know I'm moving forward, I do know that.   But I can't help feeling this way, and I don't know why.

Everything was going so great.   I feel in moments like this, the need to write.  The need to call, the need to throw my arms around my mommy and cry into your chest.   I feel the need to hold your hand.  I miss your hands.  They were so soft.   And small.   Like grandma's.   I wish I could see your hand again.    I wish they could wipe away my tears.

I love you mom.
I just want to be a good mom.  I want to be here, in this moment. I know you can't come back to me, but there is such a hole.   I wish you could.   I still need you mommy.   I hope I can make you proud.  I hope I can make my kids proud.   I hope I come out the other side a new and improved wife, mother, and daughter.   Confident and trusting and full of faith, that everything can still work out.  That life still has happy endings.  

And that I'm living one.

xo