Wednesday, June 16, 2010


Breaking the news to your children that their father may possibly be leaving the country for work, for 6 months, is an almost surreal experience. I almost could not believe the words I was saying to my beauties, and watching their eyes turn to such words. They wept. My little one, Charlotte, was very concerned where her father would be eating dinner every night. How big would the table be? My heart is shattered.
As the words were coming out, I wanted to suck them back in my mouth. I wanted to call David and tell him to forget the whole thing. We could live on love. We didn't need money. But I knew, and he knows, this is simply not possible. We are behind on all of our bills, and I fear we could lose our home. We must take this oppurtunity to better our life. I am tired of telling my girls no. No they cannot take dance lessons. No we cannot go out to dinner. No, they can not have that pretty dress. I am tired of being stressed, and I am tired of David being worried. I want to not think about money. I want to be free. I want us to thrive as a family. But what if something happens to my David? I keep thinking about this. The risk of becoming financially healthy could kill my husband. I have dark visions of scary masked men, faces covered in black fabric, wielding giant swords, with my poor husband, kneeling before them. I know that is even terrible to write, but the image is burned into my brain.
6 months goes fast. I know this. It also moves painfully slow. Like the ride to a family member's home for the holidays. It takes forever to get there, the day is wonderful, and then it is over, and the ride home is over in an instant.
I shudder.

No comments:

Post a Comment