Tears

I don't let the tears come very often anymore. Well, I would. If they came. They don't come often. I feel them mostly when I think of my children and the pain they are in. Sometimes it doesn't seem like they're in pain. I choose to believe, as a good friend reminded me this morning, that God has placed a big wall of emotional protection around them, so they don't have to feel the devastation every day. As they get older, they'll feel it more, I think.

This morning I cried. At church. I hate crying at church. But I had some stuff to get out. Stuff related to what I posted yesterday. Also, yesterday, I spent most of the day on the verge of tears, but they didn't come.

The grief remains. The shattered dreams grief. I am not grieving the person I lost. Most days, I just feel relief that he's not in my life. But that dream that I'd be married for the rest of my life, the dream of my marriage. I know my dream does not match the reality of what I lived (in the last few years), but letting go of it is hitting me to the core these days.

For the past few years, I carried 3 photos in my Bible. I think we were supposed to bring photos of our "past" to a home group get together one time, in Victoria. We only had Ethan then, and my photos were of Colin and me in costume in a play we were in, another nice one of us going out one evening to celebrate our engagement, and one of Ethan as a newborn.

Ethan saw these photos yesterday and I told him about them. He immediately wanted to have the one of his dad and me dressed up nice and ready to go out. He wanted to keep it in his own Bible. And I thought, who better to carry around a picture of his mum and dad, who were so very clearly in love.

It made me happy to know he was happy to have the picture. But it made me sad, because he knows his mum and dad are not happily in love anymore. And that dream is gone, too! The security a child has knowing his parents are faithful and loving to each other!! And I get choked up every time I think of that picture in my son's Bible.

I hate that I'm sad and grouchy. I hate that, when the kids talk to their dad, he's all happy and upbeat! The mother, who has God in her life, is sad and lonely, and discontent. Their father, who has forsaken everything of God, is happy and life is good! I know all of this is on the outside. I know the deep peace I have in my soul, and I know his soul is probably tormented daily, but the outside is what my children see.

I want to be content. I want to just move on. I suppose I haven't gotten there yet. I suppose the process should take longer than a year. I do NOT want anyone to think I'm pining for him. I'm NOT! I want what SHOULD have been. I do NOT want what IS right now and I would not take him back. He didn't just damage our marriage. He killed it. I won't go back. A year ago? Yes. Now? No.

I'm all over the place here. My emotions are everywhere. My thoughts run through my head a thousand miles a minute. Time isn't a healer. No. Not yet, anyway.

I'm just SO darn tired of being in pain. It's too much. God, help me. Take it all.