I would have sang out your name in those old high school halls…you tell that to Gail, if she calls.
I think it’s finally beginning to hit me, almost 2 months later, that I don’t have Dec anymore. Probably because for the first month and a half he was always here if I needed him, right there in Queens prepared to take our daughter whenever I needed and fulfill his once-weekly obligation to see her on the weekend, and take her to her appointments once a week, and now he’s not here anymore. He’s 2500 miles away living his life and I’m 2500 miles away trying to pick up the pieces of ours.
And it’s hard, you know. It’s hard. I didn’t expect it to be so hard and I don’t know how to cope with it. With appointments upon appointments and work and bills and the always-present possibility that Sarah could, at any point, relapse. With the ins and outs and intricacies of parenthood, even with Down Syndrome and cancer removed from the equation.
I want him here with me. I want him here with us. We were supposed to be a family. I’ll make it, somehow, I know I will. I’ll make it and Sarah will make it, but the idea of someday “making it” doesn’t exactly make up for the fact that I’m drowning under a pile of responsibilities and uncertainties and things that are too hard for me to manage in the now. I most certainly can see the forest for the trees, the maze for the corn…but I can’t seem to find my way out of it.