Patience is a virtue, but not one I possess. I get impatient when people run late, when the clock moves too slow at work, and when old men at the grocery store don't know how to use their credit card and require twenty minutes of instruction.
My latest run-in with impatience has nothing to do with any of the above. I am impatiently waiting for my kids to heal. I want them to wake up tomorrow morning and not experience emptiness and pain. I want them to make it through one day without crying. I want them to go back to being the children they were.
When he would not call or visit, I could deal with that. I was able to provide them with some hope that they may see him again. It may not be soon, but it would happen eventually. I can't do that anymore. I can't give them a time when they may see him. I can't give them the phone so they can call. I can't do shit and that is what pisses me off the most!!!
I know expecting my kids to have healed by now is unrealistic. It's only been three weeks. This is going to be a lifetime thing. But having to see them living with this loss everyday is pushing me to the edge. I'm afraid I'm just going to explode. Not in anger, but just explode. Probably a marathon cry-a-thon. Crying for six hours straight. That usually makes me feel better (and yes, I have done a six hour cryfest before). But, at the risk of repeating myself, it won't change a damn thing. He will still be dead and my kids will still be in pain.
Dammit!!!
