6 months
It’s 8.30pm. The kids went to bed an hour ago. Harry’s final attempt to gain attention in the throes of averting sleep happened about 20 minutes ago. He’s asleep now too. I’m awake.
There was always so much to do during these hours at night. Work, reading, talking, planning lives, studying, watching TV. I remember, even recently, we’d sit in bed and take turns reading trivial pursuit cards. Recently… it feels recently.
None of these things seem quite right now. I try to read. Sometimes I get through a lot. Sometimes not.
It’s been 6 months today. How can it have been that long since I last held her? It still seems hard to understand. It is quiet. The house is completely quiet. Lonely.
The 6 months have been hard. Kids are hard work at the best of times. They both seem to be doing fine at school, with friends, at sport. But Harry goes quiet sometimes. Cara gets angry sometimes. What’s normal? What would I do about it anyway?
We went to the movies on Saturday afternoon. A particularly nondescript animated film – Home. Towards the end the animators use slow motion and distorted, muffled sound to amplify the emotion of a young girl who has lost her mother. Cara hops out of her chair and hops onto my lap and cries. Not loud sobs. I can just feel quickening deep breath spasms. It’s dark, when the lights come on she pretends it didn’t happen, after she wipes the tears.
The 6 months have happened so fast. So much admin, so much of life logistics to work out. Finding nannies, school drop-offs and pick-ups, homework, soccer, circus, cricket. Somewhere in the middle working out how to keep all my other work juggling balls from falling to the ground. Life goes fast when stuff is happening.
But the admin is now done, the logistics are sorted – as sorted as they ever were – and I haven’t dropped too many balls… yet. Now it just feels quiet. Not a peaceful quiet. A pregnant pause quiet, waiting for an answer to the question ‘what happens next?’
It’s now 9.09pm. The house is still quiet. I had a nice chat with a friend who rang while I was pondering that last question. I’m thinking about it again now. The only response I’ve got is ‘get through another 6 months’.
Now it’s 9.20 and I’ll hit publish on this post. It’s even quieter than usual tonight. I should get some sleep and get ready to face the next 6 months tomorrow.
The kids have done well, as have you; Mary would be proud of you all.
Beautiful Trent. Thanks for sharing. Have been thinking of you in the 6 month lead up. I’m proud of you all xo
If you do drop balls, it does’nt matter. You can always pick them up again. Keep plodding along Trent
You are doing a great job always in our thoughts Trent always.
Thinking of you all everyday & sending lots of love & hugs. Some days it feels like Mary was here just yesterday & other days it feels so long since I saw her beautiful smile. xo
Our hearts go out to you Trent, to us it will always be Mary and Trent and the kids. Love to you all. xxxx.