I am having a total meltdown. One step further and my fingers will pour into the keys, and I will be a puddle of water. I am not one who cries easily, never mind sobbing hysterically, and really wanting someone to talk to.
The only people I could call and trust to pour my heart out to aren't home.
Megan called and said they are leaving for Kentucky tomorrow night. She needed whatever clothes I had of Alanna's, and a few toys which they wanted to take.
I was angry that she was having her last night's dinner with her father-in-law, and not with Larry and I, though they are coming over for dessert. That in itself bought up a host of feelings and disappointments within me, but in reality what is bothering me is that Alanna is leaving.
Reality hit me hard when I had to put all the baby's clothes in bags. I had to empty the drawers in the spare room that have been dedicated to her for three years. All of a sudden I broke down. Alanna had become the child that Larry and I never had together. She has been our joy and our strength when Megan was so sick. She was life that came from a war that may be taking her own mother's life slowly.
I also worry for Megan. She is in remission now, but what if....?
Though our relationship has a history of being rocky, she and I have a strong bond that is deep and tenacious. She carried my picture under her helmet when she was in Iraq and told me how when things got really bad, and she won't talk about how bad it was, that she would take it out and look at it. There's no place like home.
I have to let go, but I also know it is OK to grieve, and I don't always have to be the strong woman who holds in her sorrow and pain. The melt down did not kill me, and I have let a lot go. I cried for Megan's cancer, I cried for all the times I could not cry. I cried and I cried. And it was OK. (except for the not-being-able-to-breathe part)
Off to take a bath. That seems like the right thing to do. Till tomorrow..