April 8, 2007

Tomorrow is Easter. Just one more day to get through. Today we wnet to the boardwalk for our church's Easter Festival. The kids had fun, but I was miserable. Not only was it 40 degrees, but we didn't wear jackets, and of course the obvious....Joe wasn't there this year.

Since he died 5 months ago, we've been faced with Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Dylan's birthday, New Years, Valentine's Day, Mardi Gras, and now Easter. I never before realized how many holidays there were. Of course these "special" days are really no more difficult than every other day. Everyday is hard...holiday or not. Every night I feel completely overwhelmed as the kids bedtime approaches. Tonight there were toys everywhere, egg dye all over the kitchen, the kids were right under my feet getting into everything, they were wound up just from the idea of the Easter Bunny, I was trying to get their water and snack made for bedtime, and Dylan starts fussing because he couldn't see the fish and he was trying to move te aquarium to see....I LOST IT! I yelled at him, and he took off to his room screaming and crying. Camryn ran after him to check on him, and I just leaned over the counter crying. She came out with him a few minutes later, holding his hand, telling him everything would be OK. They found me crying, and she asked what was wrong....I didn't answer, so she said "is it because of daddy?" And I told her honestly, that yes it was, and that I didn't feel like I could take care of them very well without him here. They both came over and hugged me and gave me a kiss, and Camryn said "You do take care of us Momma. You're the best momma ever." I told her that it was sweet to say that, but that I know that its not true....and she just hugged me. She is by far the ONLY thing that gets me through all of this. Ever since the day he died she has always stepped up at just the right moment to take care of Dylan when I lose my temper, or am hysterically crying. And she's always said things to try and make me feel better. Two days after he died, I was crying while I brushed her hair, and she just looked at me and said "Momma, don't be sad, we'll all be together again in heaven one day" She does make me feel better at my worst moments, but it makes me even more sad to think that she's only 4 years old, and has made it her job to make things better here. She shouldn't have to. I have no idea why my children have been dealt this hand in life. It breaks my heart even more than it already is.