Dave is in Ireland getting his first real break in 6 years since Ellie was born. I'm happy for him, it was my idea. And I am really glad he got out before the plague hit.
It has been six years too. Six years of interrupted or no sleep, six years of holding our child who is often sick, six years of trying really hard to push a twelve foot bowling ball up Mount Everest. I think we have done pretty well so far and I know we have given it our best and will continue to give it our best and then give the rest that it requires of us. Because I am sure it will take all I have. But the last two days, with no one to talk to but Ellie, who is only available for consult between the continuous nap have made me see how isolated we are in many ways.
My family travels right by our exit off to see each other, only cautiously seeing us when their guilt gets the better of them. I see the little girl who lives down the street taking advantage of this warm day to ride her bike. I hear the other kids in the background when Dave calls to check in. It's all making me a little sad today. Maybe because I am sick too. Not sure.
I feel really isolated and on days like this it feels like it will always be this way.
