Maybe next year

So I remember… so many times, saying to myself that next year will be better, that it HAS to be better….that it can’t get any worse.
In 2000 when my first marriage ended I dragged myself through it, chin up and struggled through it. Had a couple crashes here and there but got through it. I had my boys.

All the time thinking “it’ll get better”. And it seemed to.

Flash forward to 2010 when my second marriage ended. After a year of decline in the relationship and stress in the home it was almost a relief. There was sadness but more than anything else, an over-whelming sense of optimism that “better” was just around the corner. That I just had to get through the transition but that it was for the best and it was a good thing. Again. a couple crashes here and there but I got through. I had my boys.

Late 2010 brought Son 1’s mysterious lump on his neck that sprialled into the worst fear that I had ever known. Doctors appointments, biopsies, specialists and uncertainty. Early 2011 brought the surgery and the relief that he was going to be ok. Benign and all good. All my boys were ok. That was all that mattered. Life slowly wandered back to normal.

May 2011; the trip to Whistler with the boys. A couple bumps here and there…nothing less than you would expect when you cram everyone into close quarters for a weekend. Overall an amazing weekend. Driving home from that weekend I thought to myself that all was good. My boys were healthy, I had a job I enjoyed, life had fallen into a nice little path and I was happy. I had never felt so settled and at peace and content.

June 2011 brought the first few flashes of something not “right” with Willie. Extreme mood swings. lethargy, sleeping and eating patterns morphing into an unhealthy and self-destructive realm. By the end of the summer it was clear that something was wrong.
A steady decline and journey in a direction that would finish the year with Willie having been hospitalized and released, medicated, in therapy and once again…a hope that next year would be better. I had my boys…maybe not all allright, but we’d get through it.

2012 began with transitions and turmoil. A move, downsizing and facing a new life of just having my youngest with me as my older sons all moved out.

One month into 2012 and my world stopped, or so it felt. 9 months now of people saying it’ll get better. Eventually….maybe not soon, but eventually.

Trying to think that maybe next year will be better. Then the reality hits. I don’t have my boys. I feel lost and empty and aware in a horrible way that I will never have them again in the way that I alwasys did. That part of my life is done. The question now is how to move forward when I don’t feel like there’s any point.

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