For the past few days I have been complaining to N. about feeling overwhelmed. How life with my three HEALTHY children for the past 2 1/2 months has been draining, exhausting and nerve wrecking. I even told him that my mom was probably right. I couldn’t DO IT ALL. I was probably not cut out for ‘this’.
And while I was trying to keep my cool and not yell at Jannis for waking his little brother up from his much needed nap, I came across a picture of a little boy. THE little boy. In the red shirt. Lying on the beach. Face down.
My heart stopped.
I closed my eyes. I wanted the image to disappear from my head. I desperately needed it to be fake. A hoax. Oh, how I wish it were that simple…
His name was Aylan. He was 3. He drowned along with his 5 year old brother and their mother while fleeing Syria. His father was the only one that ‘survived’. Although I am not sure if alive is how he feels right now.
Anger. Despair. Panic. Shock. Breathlessness. Sadness. PROFOUND sadness & guilt.
Who am I to complain about such trivial things as not getting enough sleep? What ‘problems’ am I really talking about?
We don’t have ANY problems. Not any big ones anyway. Our ‘issues’ are not permanent. We haven’t suffered any horrible losses which have left irreparable voids in our hearts and lives. We are going through a slightly challenging phase, which will soon pass.
Right now we have each other and this is the richest we will ever be.
until next time