I didn’t notice the hour go by so fast. I promised myself that it would only take a few minutes to join an online contest and then I’d be done with it really, really fast. (It’s for an iPhone4- I thought it would make a cool Father’s Day present if I win it. Crossing my fingers!) My Net visits get shorter each time as I seem to have lost the urgency to remain connected to the world. Here in my little home, time plays tricks on us, going ever so slowly on nights when Alphonse can not sleep, or zipping by insanely fast when I have dinner on the stove, a pile of dishes on the sink, and a hungry child banging loudly on the kitchen door.
Yes, we’re okay, as “okay” as our version of “normal” will ever get to be. We cope, we work, we help each other. We struggle, we cry, we prop each other. And we pray. A lot. Life these days is a monotonous routine of housework and schoolwork but there is some peace, at last. There is still some anxiety and sporadic aggression, marked by a sense of deep loss, but these sad episodes stand nowhere near the scale of February’s rampages. And while there is not much spontaneous happiness yet- the kind that comes from some place genuine and natural- we have not lost faith yet that even that will be restored to us in God’s time.
My hour is up. My hands can do no more than pound on the keys, the old neck injury bothering me on and off again. (Getting kicked in the face is no fun, I can tell you, but that is another story for another day.) I want to say Thank You to all those who still come and read these pages, who offer us hope and prayers and courage, and who still think of us in the middle of their own long days.
I am still here. And I will return.