Swimming in Deep Waters

I sleep alone.

It's been 13 days since the Mister left our family, suddenly and painfully.

I have been mourning our marriage, and our memories.  It's as if he erased 16 years of our lives.  And it hurts.

My ward has been exceptionally supportive and compassionate.  My neighbors, friends and family (my in-laws, too) have been life savers.

It feels like he died.  My house is full of cards, flowers, gifts, and meals.  Yet I have no grave to visit; except the other side of our bed.  Which lies empty and undisturbed.

The kids had a rough first week.  Anxiety attacks, teachers calling from school because the innocent kindergartener won't stop crying in class.  The 11-year old who comes home from school every day and has to be held like a baby on my lap for long periods of time.  My oldest feels responsible for Dad leaving.  He sees the school counselor regularly.

It's as if my neatly stacked apple cart has been dumped over, and the order and predictability of my life is scattered in all directions.  The energy previously used for other things is rerouted to gathering, cleaning, sorting, and restacking the apples.  Our lives are fraught with disorder, confusion, despair, and loneliness.  I focus only on surviving one day at a time.

Last Saturday, I couldn't get out of bed.  I wanted my life to be over, for the pain to stop.  The despair and feelings of betrayal were thick and wide.  I only had 4 reasons to get up that day, and they were all hungry.  So finally at 11:00, I made breakfast.

"Mama, can you make the waffles that Daddy makes?" she asked hopefully.

I smiled weakly, and made sweet rolls.  (He never used a recipe, but made the best weekend breakfasts that I can't begin to replicate.)


I find great comfort in the knowledge that God loves me, and through the love of my Savior and Healer, Jesus Christ, we can have our broken hearts healed.  God counts each of my tears, as well as my children's.  There will be more 'Saturdays', but I will get through them.