Houston, we are a go/no-go for launch... Two weeks and counting. And while two weeks may sound like the blink of an eye to some of you; let me assure you that to me (who is fumbling her way through a darkened cave with two babies on her back toward a light the size of a dime) it is anything but short. Two weeks is akin to the amount of time you spent in labor, or lost your child at Nordstrom's that one time. You know, the kind of time that stretches seconds into eons, and minutes into eternity? Yeah, that kind.
And while I am fumbling through the craggy, spider-covered darkness of my cave, I am so thankful to hear my supporters, my cheerleaders, near the end of the cave, closest to the light, screaming my name, telling me I can do it, assuring me that it will all be worth it.
I have to give you all a shout out. Without you, I would just give up... sit on a moist, moss covered rock and cry until help arrived, bats flying in my hair, cave dwelling creepy crawlers shivering up my spine. I would close my eyes and pray for brighter days, all the while moving no closer to that brightness where you are.
My dear sweet husband, who started our adventure into the cave. You are the reason we stepped into the darkness... knowing that the light at the end would be worth the journey. Your persistence, despite being hit by a drunk driver, despite that G.D. test you had to take in Seattle, despite having a wife & twin sons to care for, you persisted, and that is the reason we have become the parents we have always wanted to be. Educated ones. I gladly give up time and energy for you & your journey, because you are my everything. And I am so proud of you that sometimes I could cry.
My super Nanny, who has brought encouragement, nourishment, & flashlights when I need them most. You are my rock, my example, and my knowledge that given enough strength, one can face the cave. Even with twice as many kids as I have. You are my listening ear, my calming voice, and quite frankly, my savior on days like today when I am ready to lay down and let the bats give me rabies. Thank you. It's not enough, but thank you. I love you and aspire to be like you. By God's sweet blessing I find myself more and more like you everyday.
My sidekick Sister, who loves my kids as much as I do. Who plays with them, hugs them, watches them, and holds them as if they were her own. Who shares her son and her time with me, when I need it most. Who let me take a break today (and paint my toenails, even though no one can see them in my cave) and encouraged me to find the energy to continue my journey toward the light. You are my best friend, my sounding board and my strongest priority setter. Thank you for the clarity of your words, your unending honesty and your support, especially the last few weeks. I love you and am so enjoying parenting side by side.
My mom told me today that it is darkest before the dawn, so the pitch black darkness I faced today is proof positive that brighter days will come.
The sun will shine.