When all is quiet

It's in those quiet moments, late in the night that get to me most. When the kids are tucked in and he's sound asleep next to one of them that I go tap him on the shoulder and ask if he wants to come to bed. It's the times when all I want to know is if he's safe. If he's okay. If he feels fine. It's when he's gone away for a night or two on a business trip and I end up at my parent's house because I have a need. A need I've semi-masked behind just enjoying an extra sets a hands to help with baths. It's both a need and a fear. A need of having him with me and a fear of being without him. 

I love him more than I realize. Even through the days that I can't stand him, I always want him near me. To know that he's okay. And I'm not that type of person. Not needy. (Ryan's reading this and calling BS). This wasn't an issue before he got sick. In fact, he was spending weeks away from home for work prior to the hospital stay and it was nothing. Harder for me? Yes. I was a single mom during the week and only occasionally did I end up at my parents. Mostly when I had reached the end of my rope with the kids and I needed the break. It worked for us and I knew it was temporary. 

Since then, I hate being by myself at night when Ryan's away. I become short tempered, stressed, and agitated quickly because wondering how he is doing sits in the back of my head constantly. I have no desire to fall asleep. I busy myself with reading, laundry, or Netflix. Actually, this is what I'm doing currently. Trying to be "okay" since I decided to wear my big girl panties and stay at home. With the kids. Without Ryan. And this is what's happened...I've ended up blogging about it. 

I still cry at a moments notice. I still hurt when I think of him and that he's still here. When people ask me, even as we inch toward the one year mark, how he's doing I think I still get awkward in saying he's doing great. It's because I don't want to get all blubbery. It happens and all it results in is my eyes burning from mascara and people probably wishing they hadn't mentioned it. 

Like I said, the one year mark is so close. Even talking to my mom today about it seems impossible. It still seems like a lifetime ago, but like yesterday. He still has a hard time believing it happened and I still occasionally have a hard time remembering that he is fine. And here. With me. Except when he isn't.

I'm trying to have a good relationship with July. Mentally, I have to get there. Right now? Right now I see it as a gloomy cloud hovering between June and August. It will come each year and each year I have to make the choice to be happy. To be thankful. To remember all the good that came out of July. To forget the ugly. To forget that summer night when things went from a dream to a nightmare. To rememeber the good. To remember God's love he so graciously covered us with. To remember that Bunney is here to make me laugh, make me smile, and make me want to punch him in the face at least twice a day. 

 

Here's to staying strong and confident when those babies and Ryan need me most.