Originally posted 10/27/2009
Yesterday felt like we were the sand granules dripping one by one into the time capsule. We longed for the day to be long, and that it was, indeed. The anticipation for the evening was nearly unbearable. I sobbed uncontrollably many times yesterday. My heart ached for my children, their blinded minds, unaware of what was about to happen. Cody put the babies to bed all by himself, losing a part of him as he closed that door behind him. And then we waited some more.
We snuggled in bed with Addyson enjoying the time we still had together.
He went back into the babies' room and picked up their sleeping bodies to clutch, remembering the smell of their skin, the feel of their hair, the sound of their breaths.
The drive was solemn.
Cody, "I have nothing left. I feel completely empty."
Once we arrived at Cody's work, Addyson yelled, "Daddy stay, stay daddy, stay!" He unloaded his bags, took Addyson to the potty (of course she had to go, right?), came back down where the three of us hung on to the last few moments together.
Addyson was extremely tired and demanding that she go to the car to her seat. We explained to her that daddy had to go to work for a long, long time, which she repeated and gave her daddy several hugs, kisses, and no nes.
Cody and I hung onto each for what seemed to be too short of a time. And then he walked away, drying his tears becoming the soldier he needs to be. As I closed the door to the van, Addyson said, "Mommy cry. Mommy daddy hug."
Time is an evil beast, never turning out the way you want it to.
And now, I am numb. I cannot possibly cry any more than I have this past weekend. I have felt dehydrated for days from all the uncontrollable sobs.
As I woke up this morning, I knew that it was time to function. Get through each day, day by day, no more time for sadness or self wallowing, I must be, and that I will.