Pulling Me Along

We started another deployment yesterday.

The weight of what had happened, that we had just started another deployment, hit me like a ton of bricks around 4am, when I woke up, again, to an empty bed.  I would have liked to have spent today in bed, drowning my sorrows in chocolate.  And fried foods.  Pre-Layla, I would have done exactly that. 

But my child had other plans.  She was up and at them early, yanking me from the cocoon of exhausted sleep, forcing me to comb my hair out of my swollen eyes, rinse my tear stained face, and pushing me towards the coffee maker.  Physically pushing me to it, demanding in her small but loud voice, “Mommy make coffee!!  We play!.”

I have been determined to make her life as normal, in that Normal Rockwell painting sort of way, as I possibly could.  I have been equally determined to shield her from this deployment as much as I could.  Despite my heartache, despite the zombie like feeling from a night of restless sleep, I obliged her.   She pulled me along, and we played.

She jabbered at me through breakfast, and while normally we talk about our plans for the day, today she asked for her Daddy, wanting to go wake him up.  The third time I explained to her that he was staying at work for awhile, she nodded, and asked for her colors.  And after we scribbled all over her coloring books, I found myself ankle deep in flash cards, play dough, colored pasta, and toys. 

Little by little, I found myself sinking into the routine of life with my toddler.   Armed with everything I have for her, I faced the day, on shaky knees, fighting back tears, but faced it anyways.  We bundled up for a walk outside, came in, warmed up, and did it all over again. 

After lunch, while she was sleeping, I found myself too tired to cry.  Instead I slept.  When nap time was over, we did everything again.  I found myself thankful I put dinner in the croc pot, Sprout seemed determined to keep me going all day long.  She bounced from one activity to another, pulling me along, asking for more colors, more play dough, more of everything. 

She is forcing me to keep going, to put one foot in front of the other, to take my eyes off the computer and away from my phone.  She forced me to get out into the cold air today, to take a breath, and stand in the sun, when I would have sulked in the shadows all day.  She is carrying me through this, in her own way, like she has during all the dark days, like she has since before she was born.  

I needed her today, needed her to remind me that I have got to keep going that I have to get her through this.  If I teach her nothing in life, if I leave her with nothing else, I need her to know that while it is ok to cry, you have to carry on. 

And maybe, she knows that already. 

~Jennifer