The day after
I feel tearful. I tend to hug my kids a little more. I read trough news and feel cold.
I hear parents talking @ the school gates, hide the news from my three year old. I want to hide, snuggle up and sleep. My fighting spirit is high, so I just go out, do the shopping. I take up my normal life, but wished I wasn’t so alone. I stare at my phone, hoping to hear from friends or family. I hate my dads hateful comments. I wished my baby girl would make me smile, but she’s a sleep. I wonder how those people feel, I write, I write, I write.
I wish the weather wasn’t so grey, I enjoy the dogs heat, I am too quiet. I read the news, wished I didn’t, then keep on reading. I wonder about November, I hear sirenes and wonder, i feel like a fool. So I write, I write, I write,…………..
I just got a call from a colleague from my volunteer job that her family member, a police officer at the airport, is fighting for his life. My heart and thoughts go out to him and his family.