12/28/2018
This is one I never shared publicly. It's a self portrait during an especially difficult time of my life.
It was roughly 1 year ago. My husband and I were separating because of the constant fighting. We had just bought our first home. His brother whom we had been caregivers for had moved into a nursing home where he could finally get the care he needed for the end of his young life. Our very young son finally had his own room, a yard, a place that would forever be familiar. We live 1700 miles from our nearest relatives and life became too hard, too lonely, too heavy. I spent many days like this in the bright light of our living room, listening to the same movies on the tv, repeating the same sentences again and again to our toddler, socializing with other humans only through my handheld device, and being tethered to the couch by my breasts under our nursling.
Life looks different now. I no longer have the same view - now it is from the not-so-brightly-lit windows of our apartment. We officially divorced late this year. We embraced in our grief, our sorrow and our love outside of the courthouse after the judge gave her approval. It was a painful and bittersweet morning. Our son spends time between both homes - he gets to have 2 now! The tears still flow freely some days. Drop off is still bittersweet as we exchange pleasantries and give report of meals, diapers, and demeanor, still with so much love, so much pain, but with 2 missions to be healthy and happy for our child powering us through each day.
The holidays hurt. What most spend as a single unit is now divided as lovingly and fairly as we can so this little person doesn't feel like a rope being forever tugged in 2 directions. We woke up as a family of 3 on Christmas morning, all under 1 roof. We shared the smiles in real time rather than in video or in recollection. Having each other eased some of the pain from losing loved ones this year - his brother and my grandfather.
Looking back on this photo, I can still feel the pain, the sobs, the anguish and the uncertainty of the choices before me that would decide our future. Today, I see the sunlight I couldn't see then.