Monday, December 20, 2004
South Texas has had a rare cold snap and I'm freezing.
I don't have the skin for cold weather and so the kids and I have been holed up in this house for four days.
It's mind numbing. Now and then I'll realize that Lucas has been talking, I've zoned out, and he has asked me a question because of the expectant look on his face. Then he'll say, "Right mommy?" 'Oh, I'm a zombie head,' I tell him, 'ask me again.'
It makes it hard for me to find entertaining things to do. We spend a certain amount of time in each room of the house. We actually get excited when we realize, "Hey, we haven't been in the laundry room yet!" And off we go to find out what fun the laundry room holds for us today. But the truth is that in it all, I am really very peaceful on days like this. The weather is making me stay home, inside, huddled with my babies. I realized that when I just give in to it, instead of thinking there's something I should be doing, I relax in a way I haven't in a long time.
And after the kids are in bed my mind wonders back and forth between my dad and my daughter. Would God really do this? Would Life expect that I am going to survive something like that? What is my dad feeling? Am I giving my daughter enough joy in her life for whatever time she'll have? Am I going to have regrets? Will I wake up broken hearted and drowning in despair one day because I didn't realize something that she needed? Does my dad, does my daughter really know how much I love him/her?
My dad taught me to be brave and to love without fear. He also taught me to not fear death, but I always assumed he meant my own. I realize now what he was doing. He has tried to prepare me for when one day he is no longer around. I know that he has a great chance of recovery, but hearing that he has cancer has caused me to do a lot of reflecting, the way things like that often do.
And as always, I am weighing the choices I have made for Amaris thus far in various areas, such as school and therapy. My entire outlook now is to arrange everything so that it adds joy to her life. There's really no benefit in keeping anything that does otherwise.
And I realize I feel a longing for the days when my son was a baby. It's almost painful to remember those days because I miss them so much. I was so content and happy then. I was innocent of this. The days held such promise. Everything made sense. Everyone was healthy. They were golden days and they passed too quickly. I wish I could find that again. I know I never will.