Brad left at eight to get some things done at our house he needed to work on - he is kind in that every night I have to work late, without fail, he always comes over and plays with the kids and gives the boys some of his time while little bit demands all of his time.
But, my thoughts keep going back to my parents. Today my dad was released from the hospital and taken back to Clarksville, where my parents live, to a rehabilitation center where he will stay for ten days while his body continues to heal. His left hand is swollen from the fall to resemble a baseball glove and his face looks scary from the wounds.
But the pain of all that isn't what I keep coming back to ---
It's that my mom is home alone right now.
In the home where they have lived together for over fifty years. The home where both my brother and myself were raised.
Tonight she is alone.
Dad is not there.
I can't imagine the feeling that she is feeling. And the relief I am sure she's allowed herself to breathe, that dad did survive the fall and that she is finally home after five very long days.
And only one full night of sleep.
But tonight when I talked to her. I wanted to cry. Cry because all I could think of ---
After only living with brad the short time I have, I can't imagine having to be without him because his health made it impossible for us to be together. And that's after less than a year of marriage.
Dad is alone too.
He is in a rehabilitation center with similar people like him. Somedays and moments his mind is great. Other days and moments, not so much. But tonight, mom isn't there.
Life has forced them apart.
Breaks my heart.
Makes me want to hold Brad a little tighter.
Makes me never want to grow old.
Makes me want to hug my mom and tell her how proud of her I am.
Makes me want to climb in my kind daddy's lap and get him to hold me as I tell him it's all going to be okay. And I don't think it's fair that life has dealt him these cards.
And as I wipe the tears away, and glance up at the television to see what I have missed as Private Practice is on a low hum in the background ---
I pray that tonight my sweet dad sleeps well without his constant companion, my mom, right there beside him.
And in our house, their house on Morrison Lane tonight, I pray that the house seems smaller than it is and it engulfs my mom in life and good memories of our family - and that she wakes - she wakes refreshed ready to go see my dad across town early in the morning.
Hold your love close tonight. We aren't promised tomorrow. And if you are sitting reading this blog and somewhere in another room is your child, your husband or your wife, your mom or dad, sister or brother --- go to them. Tell them that you love them. Squeeze them. Hold them tight. Rub them. Touch.
Right this second. Do it.
Let's all hold each other just a little tighter.