Tonight I was driving away from Clemmons park. Clemmons park is at the end of Teakwood road. Annabelle’s house sits on Teakwood road.
If you’re newer to my blog, Annabelle’s house was my house.
Until it became his house.
And I’m there almost daily. Dropping books, picking up baseball cleats, la la la.
But today it was hard. That was my house.
Last week, a blogger for Huffington Post, Peggy Nolan wrote this:
“Forget where you thought you were going.”
Somedays it’s harder to forget.
Where you thought you were going.
Today was my mom’s birthday. I want to be in Arkansas celebrating with her.
My children are at their Dad’s.
My husband is with his youngest son, the one I can’t name as my own.
And I’m just sitting here.
Trying to forget.
Where I thought I was going.
Tomorrow will be better.
Tomorrow I will remember to “forget where I thought I was going.”
Tonight, though I’ll sleep tonight in the arms of a man who loves me. He doesn’t know it, but with each kind word he gives to my children and with each sacrificial gesture and with each act of love, yes, he doesn’t know it, but everyday that he loves me, he helps me forget just a little bit more.