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.