Today I wasn't feeling good and felt like I was going to pass out, and I realized that since Joe is gone if something happened to me no one would know. I started having a panic attack thinking about my children sitting here in this house and not being able to take care of themselves, while I could be laid out unconscious. So I asked Camryn if she knew what to do in an emergency if something was wrong with me. Her response...."call 1 9 9 ?" Pretty close, but not close enough if I'm laid out dying or in labor! So we had a lesson in dialing 911, and then I taped a big piece a paper with 911 on it above the phone. Every time I pass by it though its like a reminder of my own mortality, and reminds me that if something happens to me my kids will have no parents. They are counting on me. That is an enormous amount of responsibilty. Responsibility to live....somthing I haven't had much motivation to do lately. But as much as I would like to curl up and die, I know that I have to be here for my kids. I am ALL they have.
Dylan has started something new in the last few days. Whenever he gets upset about something he starts whining and says "find daddy! me find daddy" I don't even know what to say to him. He's 2, he doesn't have any clue where he is, he just knows that his daddy went to work, and never came home. And he wants to find him.
If I'm obligated to stay on this earth until my children are grown, its going to be a very long 20-30 years.
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