End Of Summer
On August 30th I finished writing the first draft of my book, “The Long Game”, a memoir written in one page short stories. The following is one of the final pieces added into the mix…
End of Summer
Yes, you’re right, nothing new has happened. So why does today hurt more than yesterday? Why at this particular time does the pain have the power to overtake me?
It just does.
Some days are worse. Some hours are unbearable. The loss of the children screams louder at certain times. It hurts everything and comes in uncontrollable waves. I did not expect the violence of these assaults to carry on. Will they ever stop?
I don’t search out thoughts or circumstances to rip open the wound. Give me some credit; even I’m not that cruel.
My life without the children has become the new norm.
It’s the milestones that remind me this is not normal.
And yes, I should have seen it coming. This week marks another event I will miss. The annual visit to the country fair. A tradition the kids revered. The rollercoaster, cow milking, deep fried Mars Bars, the Super Dog show. Ian’s first taste of Perogies and the year we sat for two hours to watch a calf being born. Jake having the thrill of seeing the RCMP Musical Ride and meeting Data from Star Trek. And Ricky, well she loved it all, but her growing love of baby goats meant hours spent in the petting zoo. They all loved the pig races. Each day had to include those crazy pig races.
For four years I spent three days at the end of each summer with some of the best one-on-one bonding time with the kids. One day each. Yes, for me a repeat of many of the fair’s classics, but seeing it from each of the triplets eyes made the day unique.
This is how I welcomed them home from their summer at the cottage back east. How we reconnected and deepened our bond. There will be no reconnecting this year.
The fair is on and I’m not at the pig races.
So you’re right. Nothing new has happened. And that is what has re-broken my heart. Today there should have been hours of new memories made with the kids. Instead I have the task of pretending my heart isn’t being cracked wide open again.
wow.
Poignant and profound. You’ve delivered that glimpse of humanity in each of us we all need to see.
This is beautiful, Tricia. Very raw and real. Fantastic writing and universal subject matter – thank you for sharing this.
In the blink of an eye, you will be reunited and going to raves at 2:00 am in the back country somewhere near Chilliwack and having drinks on the patio of Joe Fortes. In the meantime, fostering is a good crutch to hold you up. Anybody and everybody ….