Moms Columns & Blogs

On the Road

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March, 2009

The battles which continue within our home are nothing compared to the one currently tearing apart my mind.  I’ve reached a new low…the darkest point I’ve known since our new life began…  Today, for the first time, the difficulty of walking away felt far easier than staying to fight for what is left. 

Driving…always when I’m driving…would it matter if I just kept going?  I feel alternately rebellious… mutinous... totally pissed-off…overwhelmed… ultimately resigned…  I keep shoving these errant thoughts back into their secret hiding place, lest someone see them and realize I’m horrible and unworthy of what I have.  Who could understand my urge to be less than in control at all times?  Or how I’m sick of quietly accepting the devastation wrought in my life?  The idea of doing something else, being somewhere else, where no one knows our story and I can blend anonymously into the background, sounds really, really good…  What is wrong with me?  Something only the words of a seven year old child can illuminate and erase…

We drove to Columbia to celebrate my nephew Chandler’s birthday this afternoon.  The road trip was typical: John conspicuously absent, and the girls full of moody commentary about every topic under the sun, from the choice of music blaring to the dreaded question ‘are we there yet’ a dozen times.  You would think at their ages we would be long past such fussiness…  We finally made it to the restaurant, eager to be out of the car and each other’s space.  It was incredibly awkward at first, meeting several of my sister’s friends, each who obviously knew far more about me than I of them.  Chandler came running over and saved the day, quite possibly saving me in the bargain.

As I hugged this squirmy, slightly sweaty little boy, I marveled at his resemblance to Brian: the close haircut, swirling cowlicks top and bottom; his tallish slim stature, bouncing with barely contained energy like Tigger; his wayward shirt tail refusing to stay tucked on one side, and a smile that could melt a heart of stone…

‘Aunt Tammy, do you like my shirt?  It’s pink, so I’m like Beezers.  Do you think he’s smiling at me from heaven?  I hope so, ‘cause I wore it for him.’

And off he went, back to the game room, his words piercing the black balloon harboring my depressed, negative musings…  Reminding me of what matters; how could I ever forget?

I wouldn’t trade one second of my far too brief time with Brian, even if it meant freeing myself from this ongoing heartbreak…  Enjoying the good means enduring the bad; I must run the race set before me in faith and with hope, even though it’s hard, even though I don’t feel like it.  Because it’s what I’m supposed to do; I can do it if I keep my eyes on the One who did it long before me, all for me. 

Yes Chandler, I know Beezers was smiling at you, sending you all the love in the world…

Wishing you blessings and hope…tg

Tammy will update her blog on Mondays and Thursdays.  -- Jen, site administrator