Divorce Just Took Third Place

I dye my gray roots because it makes me feel good.

I go to Springsteen concerts because I love it.

I read books because I enjoy it so much.

I write because it helps me think and makes me feel better.

I go to acupuncture because it keeps me balanced.

I plant my vegetable garden so that I can enjoy the tomato juice running down to my elbows as I take half the sandwich into my mouth in one bite; and because my kids like tomatoes too.

I exercise because I want to feel healthy and be healthy.

But,

I live in Maryland for my kids, weighing the negatives of moving them away from their father and how it will affect them and their future.

I go to work every day, for my kids.

I get up every morning, make breakfast, lunch, dinner and give baths, for my kids.

I read childrens' stories every night to my kids, for my kids.

I sit down and draw, and do play-doh, puzzles and games with my kids, for my kids.

I say prayers every night with my kids, for my kids.

I take my kids to church every Sunday, for my kids.

I talk about my brothers, sister, my ex, my ex in-laws, mother, father, in-laws, cousins, nieces and nephews, telling stories and doling out compliments, for my kids.

I come home from work after working ten hours and put on a pot of sauce, letting my kids put in all the spices, stir the sauce and eat it off the spoon, for my kids.

I speak kindly to others because it's the right thing to do, and to teach my kids.

This is what mothers do. When a mother puts herself before her kids, she isn't being a mother, she is just being a person with kids.

If I wasn't a mother, and since I'm no longer married, I could do whatever I wanted. I could make any decision for the path of my life without a second thought. But I have kids. And so I don't, because they are the most important job in my life. A job I wouldn't trade for the world.

I am sick of trying to define miracles from the shit sandwich on my plate. I am sick of trying to find good in all this jumbled mess. The miracles aren't to be found in the circumstances. The miracles are to be found beyond the circumstances... looking up through the fog of the grief and seeing the beauty of a sunrise. That's the miracle. It doesn't come forth on a plate, it doesn't require the belief that you'll sit on a throne next to Jesus, bejeweled in Glory. It comes from the simple act of loving and kindness and seeing; taking into consideration how all the sacrifices, all the decisions, all the moves one makes in their life will affect the whole chemistry of the universe.

If that means sitting complacent for a while and watching my kids grow up healthy in mind and spirit, well, then I suppose they'll be my sunrise after a long life of pointing out the beauty, despite the fog.

And I'll continue to do this, for my kids.