After not seeing my church friends for a month due to all the sickness being passed around by my kids, I manged to get out with a couple of them for coffee. I forgot how much I need that interaction. How seeing them and catching up is the perfect break. Refreshing.
With a potty training 3 year old it is inevitable that when you are making dinner and you begin chopping onions or have your hands in raw meat, she WILL have to poop and she WILL need assistance right NOW.
To be completely honest, he is my most difficult child. I struggle some days to get through to him, to relate to him. We both have anxiety but our anxieties couldn’t be more different, So I have trouble understanding his insecurities even though I struggle too.
But I still love him, and will continue my journey as his mom.
“In the cemetery?” Cara shuttered, whether from the chill in the air or fear she couldn’t tell. Either way she did not want to stop here for any reason.
“It’s as good a place as any.” Peter sighed as he lowered his weary body to the soft earth.
“You can’t rest there. That’s someone’s grave.”
Peter ignored her and stretched out his limbs, lying on his back. Cara looked at the man in front of her, this man she barely knew. The day he walked into her small town was the day nothing else mattered. He was perfect in every way. His long dark hair, his tall stature. His skin seemed to glow in the sun.
Cara jumped from a sudden surge in her toes. Peter’s cool skin brushed hers as he slowly traced his hand over the delicate bones of her foot.
“This is what I want to remember, these moments with you. Uninterrupted by the world and its cruel ways.”
He always seemed to talk as if he was saying goodbye. Was he going to leave her? She sat beside him wanting to close the gap between them. As if reading her mind he pulled her down so that their bodies were as close as they possibly could be. The energy was undeniable, raging yet sad all at once. Why did it feel like an ending every time they were together?
“I will always love you,” He whispered in her ear. She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep with his hands still stroking her hair.
As the sun rose from behind the hill peter rose from his resting place, grimacing as his joints groaned in agony.
“Until later, my Love.”
Peter hobbled away, turning to look at the grave again.