I sit in the dark, making a grocery list and doubling checking school supplies. It feels like an ordinary day but it’s not. Today my first born turns 13.
In the years before I got divorced, birthday mornings meant a stack of doughnuts with candles in them for breakfast. A birthday banner and balloons. The parties were fun but birthday mornings are what they talk about.
Today he’s at his dad’s for the week. Even though we really tried to make it special the week before, his big day feels… I’m not sure what words to put here.
Last week I was talking with my brother in law. We were discussing how time passes so quickly. I brought up that Lionel will be out of the house in 5 years, but that means I have 2.5 with him at home.
So much of my heart, my whole world disappears every other week. Sure we stay in contact and I’m still doing mom things. I’m there for every kid related activity but they aren’t with me, tucked safely into their rooms at night.
Their doorways an empty reminder that I won’t see them today. In the beginning, I couldn’t keep the doors open. I’d break down in front of each one. Eventually it got easier but the emptiness remains.
I know they are enjoying time with their dad. They got lucky to have 3 parents that care for them and I’m thankful, but it doesn’t make the days I’m missing out any less hard.