Every “Pick Up Friday” starts the same. It’s generally uneventful. I give my kids "one more kiss” (about three or four times), and my heart sinks a little watching them rolling their suitcases out the front door.
It sinks because this is not the life I wanted for them. Not by a long shot.
To make the most of it, I immediately jump into my jammies and head to the couch to enjoy a quiet dinner-and-a-movie for one. I rummage through my secret “mama stash” of chocolate (which I do not have to eat in the pantry because there are no kids around). And just when I feel like it’s all going to be okay…
The sadness sets in. The silence becomes overwhelming. What seemed like a weekend of quality alone time turns into a countdown of when the pain of missing my kids will end. And I start asking God, “Why?”
Couldn’t there have been another way?Read More