Last night I was reading to the kids as they were falling asleep and grief just bubbled up almost out of nowhere.
It had been a harder than usual night. Hubby has started working a second job as a waiter at a local restaurant, so I run the show at home nearly every night by myself. I could tell ALL the kiddos were more tired than usual, so I gave them an early dinner and tried to keep a handle on things, get chores done, get ready for school tomorrow, and corral the children towards bed.
Of note -- Howard came home early from school today because he vomited. Throughout the evening, he was feeling really well and acting like his normal self... until he wasn't. Then, during the chaos of everyone clearing the table, doing chores, Hunter slipping and biting his lip (and crying), and Brady wanting to be fed (and crying), Howard's dinner of jello and applesauce came up -- thankfully in a bucket, but it was not a smooth evening.
Along with the normal bedtime stressors tonight, I had the added plot line of wondering if anyone else is going to come down with this stomach bug. Hunter had it last Wednesday and it last about 24 hours. Howard showed NO indication of being sick at all until this morning before school when he casually mentioned that his throat hurt a little. I made him some tea with honey and told him it would feel better when he got to school -- whoops.
So along with the all the normal bedtime routines, I find myself asking children, "How does your belly feel?" and "Do you think you should sleep with a bucket just in case?"
With Hunter finally settled in his crib, and Howard relaxing in Mama and Daddy's bed, I read the bedtime story to my girls while I was nursing Brady. We are almost done with the fast read, Sarah, Plain and Tall.
We are to the part of the story where no one knows if Sarah will stay or return to Maine. The children love Sarah, but they know she misses the sea, and the trial month is almost over.
During the chapter I read last night, the neighbors, Matthew and Maggie came to help with some plowing. Maggie and Sarah had a chance to talk while they planted a garden together. Maggie was from East Tennessee and answered an ad to be Matthew's wife a few years before. For anyone who doesn't know, Sarah had come from Maine in response to an ad for a wife that Jacob placed earlier in the year. The women were talking about the things they missed from their homes -- Maggie misses the mountains and Sarah misses the sea. Maggie misses her friends and Sarah misses her brother and her aunts. They both admit to being lonely.
The women wisely agree that there is always something to miss wherever you are. Anna (Jacob's daughter who is 9) overhears the women talking and thinks to herself that she misses her mother who died six years prior.
And suddenly I had to catch my breath and try to keep from crying... because I miss my sister.
I miss my older sister Tracey who never got to see my as a Mama -- on my best days or my hard nights. She never got to meet any one (let alone six) of my children. I moved to this small mountain town to make a life with my husband (although not in response to a newspaper ad like the women in the story), and I have things that I miss. Some people and things are only a phone call or facetime call away -- Tracey is farther than that.
My sister who has never met these amazing children I am so blessed to call my own. She has never met my husband. She has never known me older than age 18. She has missed the most exciting and joyful parts of my life.
Most days life rolls along at a quick pace full of chaos and joy. Occasionally grief still takes my breath away.
