It’s like waiting for a visitor you don’t want to walk through the door.
This past month we’ve all been on edge.
A little more emotional. Tears we don’t talk about.
A little more angry. Yelling we just let go.
A little more frightened. Stress we don’t mention to each other.
Every time she takes a little longer to do anything.
When she sleeps in longer than normal.
When she cries more than usual.
When she’s not hungry.
When she’s quiet.
When she’s too chatty.
When she’s awake.
When she’s asleep.
When she’s waking up.
Each day continues and each day carries the same worry. We go on with our routine but we are on high alert.
It feels like never getting a full breath. Like treading water with tired legs. Sinking enough to panic but breathing enough to keep going.
Time is just standing still and it’s still in our biggest fear.
We don’t talk. But we all know. We keep checking and checking and checking.
We all understand.
We just don’t talk about it.
Move on, pass her by.
mypurplepack 