I want one more glance into the yesterday eyes of my children because those eyes have today changed forever.
And I cannot shake this. The happy-go-lucky free spirit that was me has hidden away from myself. I miss her terribly. I miss her with a passion that aches.
I see the retro soul of my son, Mac. The guy who loves peace signs, The Beatles, VW vans and everything '60s. The guy who lives with umph and passion. The guy who has dreams and spirit. The guy who has fun being himself with no forethought let alone concern as to what anyone else thinks of it all.
I hear his infectious laughter.
Once, it was me.
I want her back.
I saw a glimpse of her today. The fun shoes, clothes and frolicking that really happened daily in my life. Really, I did those things. I wore those shoes. I was creative and spirited.
Tonight I cried for the lost me.
Somewhere between the boys' therapy sessions, the homeschool, the unimaginable stresses, the dirty laundry, the being a wife, the cooking-cleaning, the occasional night's sleep, the Special Olympics games this weekend and a zillion other responsibilities, I know she lives.
And 1.5 quarts of Breyer's Waffle Cone Overload won't bring her back.
Then I left on a journey to bring me home.
I know someone reading feels the same.
Trust your soul.
Pay attention.
Go on a journey.
And wear fun shoes along the way.
