Be the Love

We got home from skiing around 4pm. After not helping at all to unload the car, the kids were all asking for a snack. I told them "no," as we had JUST stopped at the bakery and gotten them all a sizable treat.

"No one needs to eat anything until dinner."

"OK," they all said, and they went to the basement to watch a movie. I went downstairs after a few minutes, and lo and behold they were getting snacks out of the pantry down there. It was about this time I also happened to notice that one of the pillows on the couch was ripped. The aftermath of the pillow fight they were having with their friends, that I had specifically asked them to refrain from, a few days prior. A picture frame was also broken during that same pillow fight. I realize that neither a torn pillow nor a broken picture frame are a big deal, but I cannot count all of the things that have been broken in this house when their friends are over and they are all roughhousing. It's frustrating to say the least.

These are the days. The days when I think,

I cannot do this. 

I do not want to do this anymore. 

I need help. 

I will not survive this. 

I sent them to their rooms for an unspecified amount of time and went to take a hot bath. About ten minutes later, the bath was interrupted by the kids coming out of their rooms to tell me they were bored and hungry, and asking how long until they could come out and when was I going to fix dinner.

We have made it nineteen months. I am completely overwhelmed and the thought of raising the kids alone scares the shit out of me. I pray they cannot see the fear and exhaustion that have taken me over. Sometimes I don't even know who I am anymore.

Several years ago I read Randy Pausch's "The Last Lecture." Randy was a computer science professor at Carnegie Mellon who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He and his wife had three children. Pausch died at the age of 47. At some point, when the cancer had gotten bad and they realized he was terminal, Pausch's wife Jai said to him, "Please don't die." I wept when I read that passage. I remember saying to Bill, "This is so heartbreaking. Please don't ever die and leave me here without you." He half jokingly replied, "Well I'm going to try really hard not to." That conversation haunts me.

This is all so hard to navigate. I struggle to be able to devote enough time to the kids and and to make them feel so loved, enough for two parents, but also to be able to balance that with my personal life. My girlfriends are so important to me and they have done so much for me. They were my lifeblood those first few months and their friendship means the world to me. And Dave. He walked into this fully aware of my situation, and has shown me nothing but love and grace and patience from day one. What a gift he is.

I have come to decide that all I can do is love fiercely. With abandon. And teach my children to do the same. Although this grieving process is incredibly stressful, the most important thing to me is that I give all that I can to the those whom I love. One day this will end for all of us and at that time all that will really matter is how much love we gave. The self doubt, the frustration, the uncertainty, and the fear....none of that will matter.

Did we do all that we could to show the people in our lives how important they are to us? The love is what keeps me going. In both the giving and receiving.