Musings on a car journey

It’s late morning, I’m curled up in his car. Today is the boy’s second birthday and we’re heading out to the sea for a ‘family’ day out. The sun is shining, though the ground is covered in frost still.
 
It’s strangely calm and peaceful, though I can hear the chatter of the kiddos in the back of the car and the soft hum of music through headphones.
 
The radio is blaring out country songs, I’m staring out the window, a book on my knee, pen in hand, ready to make notes in the margins as I read.
 
Sunlight streams through the raindrops on the windows, warming my fingers. My mind drifts from the words on the page, taking in the beauty outside.
 
Tears well as I realised, that this was all I ever wanted. Family. These moments.. simple, everyday life. Days out, giggling, noise, the silly arguments that come from four kids in a car for an hour, singing along to the songs on the radio.
 
This is what I’ve spent a lifetime building, creating, putting my life and soul into. And it’s gone before I knew it, family but not quite. The wholeness I sought and longed for has gone, and we’ll never quite be the same. A five instead of a six.
 
Just me and the kids.
 
I feel raw, stripped bare. Cut loose from my anchor, I’m afraid of being alone and unloved. Of being left behind.
 
The one thing I always said was I’d never give up, that I’d try and try and try. I guess I did, but I forgot that it has to be a two-way thing. I cannot try by myself. So giving up was the only choice that I had left. And I cannot help but feel like I failed.
 
The heart takes longer than the head to accept a new reality. My head knows I did the right thing, that I was left with no other option. Yet my heart still grieves for what is lost, not ready to part, to move on.

2 thoughts on “Musings on a car journey

  1. I’ve been up for hours reading your posts Polly. Your open, honest and brave words have been a huge comfort to me and I want to thank you for that. Something you mentioned in one of your posts about your husband keeping you afloat, really resonated with me. That’s exactly how I feel. All my issues were still there beneath the surface, ready to creep out when I no longer had him to keep me afloat and guide me to shore. Your words have been a huge comfort to me, Polly and I don’t feel so alone. I remember when you first met and married your husband and had your first born, I was wrapped up in my own issues and chasing my dream of marriage and family. It is shocking that in the same year, we both have experienced this gut wrenching heart break. If you ever wake in the early hours and struggle to breathe or if you sit alone at night feeling left behind, please think of me and know that you are not alone. I am here, doing almost exactly the same as you. You’ve been absolutely amazing to have soldiered on through all of these months. Sending lots of love to you.

    1. <3 Helen, that made me cry so much. I'm so glad that my words help, I've never been so open and honest before, and it's helped me so much through all of this - not least because of the connections that it is bringing me. 2017 is going to be a much better year for both of us xxxx

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