For the first time since February 8, 2004 I find myself completely alone. Well, the dog's here, but she doesn't count. My husband and my son both left for vacationland early Thursday morning. Vito will be gone for almost a full month, and my heart is breaking. My plan for the summer was to be attending a class to become a Certified Nurse's Aide (CNA), which would have kept me plenty distracted from my son's absence. Now, I am not taking the class, and my boredom leaves me to slip into despair from time to time. I honestly feel like part of my self is missing. Who am I without my son to share breakfast with? Without his body breathing in the next room at night I feel like I'm searching for something I know I have no hope of finding. I hear the neighborhood kids' footsteps on the stairs and expect my son to burst into the house needing me to get his bike out for him. I burst into tears at least once an hour.
Meanwhile, in the real world, mothers in Somalia are walking for days, maybe weeks, in search of food and water because they are in the middle of a famine. Their babies die in their arms, and they just leave them on the side of the road and continue walking, searching for sustenance. How do they keep living? How does a mother keep living when she loses her child? How can I feel so sorry for myself when nothing is actually wrong in my world? What a wretched girl I am.
So, now I'm gonna trade in my sorrow for joy.
Things I am grateful for:
Vito is safe at his grandparents' house in Atlanta.
Vito will be seeing our dear friends, Natasha, Nico and Matteo on Sunday.
There is a wonderful little boy who lives next door to Papa and Tots, who has made fast friends with my son. His family has a Wii.
Grandparents who love my son.
The tremendous planning that Tots put into Vito's time with them.
The ability to immediately give to charities online.
People with the gumption to follow through with their ideas and bring food, water and healing to people in scary lands.
Beautiful, sunshiny weather outside my door that's going to last until 11:00 tonight.
The use of my legs for the walk I'm about to take with my dog.
Here I go . . .