1000 Days

My friend and I took my kids to a swimming class tonight.  We splashed and laughed and spent precious time together.  I loved seeing my children enjoy the activity planned specifically for their entertainment.  They were eager to participate and rejuvenated when it was time to go home. 

I felt claustrophobic entering the swimming area filled with many moms and dads gathered to attend the toddler swimming class with their babies.  I wanted what they had.  I heard one mom talk about family time.  I wanted to know what that is like again with a mom and dad.  I saw another little boy grab onto his dad with fear of the big pool.  I wanted my kids to grasp onto their dad, too.  Back in the locker room, we dried off and changed out of our wet suits.  Jordan asked me, “Mommy, can I go pee?”  “Yes!” I exclaimed with a thrill that he was initiating the idea as we ran to the toilet stall.  He seemed so big tonight.  I wanted his dad to be part of his “so big” night. 

I received an email today that said it takes 1000 days to grieve the loss of a loved one.  This is a statistic from Susan Saint James, an actress who lost her 14 year old son in a plane crash.  1000 days.  Almost three years.  This sounds like the track I’m on.  I think tonight, swimming at the pool night, is day number 218.

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