Enough

There are many times as a single mother of three fatherless children that you feel like you are not enough.  You know that they deserve more.  And if you think about what you have on your hands in longer terms than simply day by day, you can become completely overwhelmed.  So it is best, really, to not think of things too far off, and just try to focus on one day, and then on to the next as it comes.  It is a lot to take on, three fatherless children, and it can overwhelm you if you let it.  It can be so overwhelming that at times you feel it will swallow you.  But then there are these small subtle rays of light that happen and give you hope and encouragement that everyone is doing okay.  And that they are going to be okay. 

For example, your middle son might lean in for a hug once in a while, instead of pulling a way.  And you can tell that he really needs it and wants it, even though he is a preteen boy and not supposed to be that into hugs from his mom.  He leans in and he takes it and he might even hug you back a little.  And there is also that thing he does where he sings things instead of saying them.  And you both try to keep a straight face when he does this, but neither of you can.  So you laugh together.

And then there is the way your daughter acts when she comes home from a long week away.  She is really genuinely happy to see all of you and each of you is equally as glad that she is back.  And you sit together in the living room and just soak each other in.  And there is also that thing she does, where even though she is very shy, she holds her head high and proud wherever she goes.   She may still be figuring things out, as many of us are, but still she holds her head high and proud as she goes.

And then there is that little ray of sunshine who is your youngest.  The one whom you have told every single day since he came into this world how lucky you are to be his mama.  And you thank him every single day for coming to you.  And even at four years old you see a quiet strength and resolve about him.  With his little freckled nose and a smile that lights up the room.  He tells you in his own quiet ways, that he too is okay.  When you drove past the city dump on Saturday, he noticed it.  And he reminded you from his seat behind you that he used to go there with his daddy.  But, he tells you, his daddy died, so he doesn’t go there anymore.  He says it very matter-of-factly, but you can tell as you look at him through the rear view mirror that he is really thinking hard about it. But then after a minute or two he is ready to talk about other things.  And you can see it in his face through the rear view mirror that he is okay.

So there are these little glimmers of light shining out from your kids:  the extra squeeze from your son, your daughter who is happy to be home, and a freckle-nosed smile...  And for a moment, or two, or three, your heart is a little less heavy.  And you lean into that feeling for as long as you can.  Because for one more day, you have been enough.