Kerryn WoodMy Hurting Heart
June 18th 2007 04:47
Every second Monday, a little bit more of my heart is ripped out and torn away. This hurts. I spend the next 7 kilometres driving home, crying.
It’s hard to drive when you are sobbing. My glasses fog up, the sleeve’s on my jumper are poor substitutes for a good box of tissues, my reflex’s are dulled and I don't remember to indicate, brake, steer - until the last minute.
It starts on the Sunday night, the night before the next day when the inevitable will occur. The tightening of my tummy, the welling of emotion from deep within, the lump in my throat, that strange feeling between brain and heart; it all starts it’s journey on Sunday night.
When I awake Monday morning, I am already angry. I know what’s coming. I am pissed off at the world, angry at the sun for coming up so soon, wish I had a .22 to shoot those blasted chirping happy birds outside my window. At least today is cold and miserable, it matches my mood.
The day goes all too quickly, everything seems to happen at an accelerated speed. Why is that? Why is it when you want a day to go quick, it ends up being the slowest on record? And when you want the day to never end, it just ends too quickly?
The time has come. I sigh heavily as I get into the car. I can feel the tears already. I suppress them, for I must not show my real emotions. I get angry again, irrationally angry, and snap at the littlest thing. My heart leaps and beats and it hurts as I begin to feel it crack.
I make the drive, and it too goes quickly, even though I drive at or below the speed limit. I can’t make conversation for fear of bursting into tears, but I try my hardest, for I know it is painful for them too.
We get to our destination. I stop the car and take a deep breath. I get out of the car, unload my passengers, and bend to kiss them goodbye. I pull back hard on the tears for they are in my eyes now and threaten to deceive me and the award winning performance I have nearly pulled off.
I hug my boys tight, tell them I love them and will see them again soon. I get back into my car, and the tears flood down my face. I cry all the way home. Another piece of my heart is ripped away, and the crack is deepening. I sure hope my heart is big enough to handle the pain - I live in hope.
It’s hard to drive when you are sobbing. My glasses fog up, the sleeve’s on my jumper are poor substitutes for a good box of tissues, my reflex’s are dulled and I don't remember to indicate, brake, steer - until the last minute.
It starts on the Sunday night, the night before the next day when the inevitable will occur. The tightening of my tummy, the welling of emotion from deep within, the lump in my throat, that strange feeling between brain and heart; it all starts it’s journey on Sunday night.
When I awake Monday morning, I am already angry. I know what’s coming. I am pissed off at the world, angry at the sun for coming up so soon, wish I had a .22 to shoot those blasted chirping happy birds outside my window. At least today is cold and miserable, it matches my mood.
The day goes all too quickly, everything seems to happen at an accelerated speed. Why is that? Why is it when you want a day to go quick, it ends up being the slowest on record? And when you want the day to never end, it just ends too quickly?
The time has come. I sigh heavily as I get into the car. I can feel the tears already. I suppress them, for I must not show my real emotions. I get angry again, irrationally angry, and snap at the littlest thing. My heart leaps and beats and it hurts as I begin to feel it crack.
I make the drive, and it too goes quickly, even though I drive at or below the speed limit. I can’t make conversation for fear of bursting into tears, but I try my hardest, for I know it is painful for them too.
We get to our destination. I stop the car and take a deep breath. I get out of the car, unload my passengers, and bend to kiss them goodbye. I pull back hard on the tears for they are in my eyes now and threaten to deceive me and the award winning performance I have nearly pulled off.
I hug my boys tight, tell them I love them and will see them again soon. I get back into my car, and the tears flood down my face. I cry all the way home. Another piece of my heart is ripped away, and the crack is deepening. I sure hope my heart is big enough to handle the pain - I live in hope.
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Comment by DuskDevi
Rugby World Cup 2007
I think I understand why...
I'm sorry if that sounds corny but...I have children and this year, my husband and I have had to face a situation that is similar but the opposite*...so I do understand.
much warmth Kerryn...
Dusk
*I'm sorry about being cryptic but I don't 'share' this type of personal info online.
Comment by Kerryn Wood
DEBATABLE CONVERSATIONS...
Sapphire Coast Marine
thanks....that's really nice....
i understand cryptic.....
i wish you much luck and strength!!
Comment by katyzzz
Photography Tips
MS Paint Art
The best I can do is empathize, I just wish I could say more but I know I can't.
Don't be afraid to let those tears flow, I wish I could.
katyzzz
Comment by Mrs M
Mum's Word
It is sad when soon just can't come soon enough.
Such a heartfelt post. Wishing you lots of strength.
Love & stuff
Mrs M