Carl and I have done a good job at parenting. He cries less than me. A lot less. OK. Hardly ever. He simply amps up his phone video games as an avoidance technique to how he feels as I sit in the chair and simply weep. I go upstairs, write in my journal, pray, weep some more, go downstairs. "I'm sorry, Dear...." as he furiously hits the keys on his phone, destroying all that is wrong in the Universe of some new Marvel game. I wish sometimes I could compartmentalize like that....it would be so much easier.
I've tried very hard to keep my chin up. I've tried my best to put on a happy face. I've tried to think up every excuse in the book for everyone I love. I try my best to stay positive. I find spots to center myself with the universe and God and pray and confess and ask for forgiveness. It all works to a point.
Until I don't hear their voice. Until I don't get to hug them. Until I don't get to see them. Until I really don't know anything about their life, what they are doing, what they are eating, what their day looks like. And then I finally hear. Maybe something good, maybe something not so good. A harm that has been done. I see a joyful moment on instagram. I see a post on facebook.
Is this what life comes to?
If I had known that, I would have fought harder.
I would have fought harder to keep you.
I would have hugged you more.
I would have smelled your hair longer.
I would have told you more often how wonderful you are until I knew you believed what I was saying.
This loving thing is hard.
There is absolutely nothing that prepares you for the losses you face with your children. The loss of their voice in your home. The loss of their laughter that comes from having everyone around the table for dinner. The special times, the celebrations, the holidays, the before and after school moments. When they hurt, you know, because they are in your home and you can hug them, and embrace their struggle with them as a support net.
I gave them up too easily. I supported their dreams without a question. I loved whom they loved....easily. We said, we support you. We support your dreams, your ambitions, what you want. And let them go. I gave them up.
And I sit here tonight wanting them all back. Last birthday I celebrated in Florida at Rain Forest Cafe. We all hollered "VOLCANO" every time the some volcano went off, or, some such thing. I had this very handsome waiter...hahahaha...who brought me an awesome cake and everyone sang to me. I had a dinner at my house before we left for Florida with everyone there. My Mom made a special time for just me and my sister to go out together. I had no idea that would be my last birthday celebration with all those people I love. No Idea. I want that back. I do. It was easier. I wasn't sad at all. I was happy. It took no effort for me to be happy. I didn't miss anyone. I had no reason to. I was talking to everyone I love. I want my kids back. I want my family back. I didn't fight hard enough. I didn't pay enough attention. I did not think about what a year from then would look like. I was simply happy, and loving my people.
I don't know what a year from now will bring. Heck, I don't know what a week from now will bring. I did not see absences coming. I did not see backs turned coming. I saw none of it because I was too busy loving all of it, all the people, all the time.
I'm sorry if I sound like a Debby Downer. I feel like a Debbie Downer tonight. I do. I've had a busy week. It's been very good and emotionally taxing. And I miss my kids. I was trying to explain Carl and myself to someone recently by saying, I guess we are odd in a way. We love our kids, other peoples' kids, and we love a new batch of kids every single year as teachers. Its what we do. And we miss our kids so much it hurts. We have poured into lots of lives. We have given. And, maybe I am simply fighting the inevitable. I don't know...but I truly hate the loss.
I've still got Easter baskets waiting in my house. I've got unopened gifts in my house. I've got dreams lurking in every corner. My attic is plumb full of my children.
And then....what do you know? My Daniel boy bounds into my bedroom and says
"Mom, I always know when you need a hug....and I always will....I love you."
and then my husband comes in, asks my how I'm doing and tells me..
"Julie, you are so beautiful. I just love you so much."
I got to go to my new mother and father in law's home in Vermont and was treated like royalty in one of the most beautiful homes I have ever been in. I felt like I was in a resort on the side of a mountain. I found a bench to overlook mountains and found moments of peace...and I can go back whenever I want! I told Lorraine, you have no idea what these days have meant to me, in this beautiful place.
And I'm grateful and reminded yet again of who is here and who loves me every single day.
I will sleep well tonight. I will pray well tonight. I will be love and accept love each day from the ones who give it freely.
I will smile again someday with a genuine, carefree, deep breathing kind of happiness. I will.
The pain will subside. Things will start to work themselves out, as life always does. And I will laugh my Julie laugh that my husband says is what hooked him in the first place.
Thank you for reading. Thank you for listening.
I love my kids. I love what I have been given. I love the new that I have been given to love.
Julie Erb Robbins.
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