I am weary. . . But I keep trying. There are so many things preventing me from things I need to do. . . I managed to save some money, but a major expense came along and took it all away. . . I wanted to attend our weekly church meeting last night but we didn't have the gas money. I am trying to teach my children school lessons, morality, the Bible and basic life skills, but it does not always sink in. . . I trudge on. . .
I tried to make a special dinner one night, but fell asleep and it burned. . . I am exhausted. . . I wanted to deep clean the house and yet my strength was fading so I only cleaned one little thing. Only one thing in my house shines and is sanitized. I must get up earlier in the morning and exercise to get energy, so I can accomplish the basics of homemaking. But the time change has stolen my bearings.
Mr. White has been grumpy lately, stressed, hurting. . difficult to bear. . I am responding meekly and quietly and assisting him in any way possible to keep him calm. . But this is the anniversary of his precious Mother's death and I must understand. I must be quiet. I let it all hit me without recourse. Then I get in the car to go to church on Sunday morning and I start thinking about his pain, remembering the exact moment he was told that his mother had died, and I clearly saw the look of abandoned sorrow on his face and I could not compose myself. . the tears fell. I could not stop them. I begged Amy (16) to tell me something funny so I could walk into church cheerful and not alarm anyone. I could not tell her why. I could not talk about it. It will get better soon. He will get better soon. The pain will lessen.
I keep getting bruised. . . and I keep walking into walls. The other day I was cleaning and cooking and helping the children and I walked into an open door. I knew I had to stop. I had to take a break. The next day, I drove right past the familiar turn I needed to take and the children told me. They expected it. Now they remind me when to turn. I trip when I get out of the car. . . I walked into the wall yesterday. I have bruises and pain but I keep going.
This is all life. . . We will have bruises and roadblocks and pain. . . We need brave mothers who will keep going. We need them to be strong and courageous and not give up despite the weariness. And even if I fall down the stairs (which I often do) I will still get up, and limp, and continue my work.
Blessings
Mrs. White
Memories from my Childhood - Saturday Morning Chores.
A Little Fun - Living with Nana and Grandpa.
A summer visit, my cancer, and how poor we were in the old days - Trials and Laughter.
An Invitation - Subscribe to The Legacy of Home and have it delivered directly to your email.
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