finding time

Dear Brian,

I am finding it increasingly difficult to take the time to write to you these days. With the dawn of Spring come many chores and tasks. The lawn needs tending. The children have messes both inside and outside that need tidying each day. The weeds need pulling. The planters, umbrellas and other outside furnishings need to be placed and cleaned. There is much to do.

I miss you so much right now. Today, I mowed the lawn. I had to adjust the height on the lawn mower to what I thought you would consider an appropriate setting for the season opening mow. As I started, I saw that the side attachment was not in place so I had to adjust that, and as you remember that can be a booger. About 1/4 of the way through the lawn mowing, the children showed me how the trampoline net had fallen off one of its posts. Upon further examination, I realized the support post had slipped down the frame. I was angry because I know this happens when the kids are rough on it and roughness is against "house rules" on the trampoline. They continuously disobey and I am constantly the mean, mad mom making kids get off for disobeying. I digress. Anyway, I got the socket set from the garage and as soon as I lifted it from its place, the entire contents spilled all over the garage floor because it was not properly locked last time.

Then, I cried.

I sat on the garage floor and cried my eyes out while 6 children between 6 and 9 looked on in shock and horror. Then, 4 little 6 and 7 year olds sat next to me and eagerly helped me reassemble the socket set.

When we were finished with the socket set reassembly, I realized the project of adjusting the trampoline post was not a task for one adult. So, several children went seeking assistance. Mike helped. Willingly. Eagerly. Patiently. It was a relatively easy task. When we went to tighten it back up, the spacer had fallen. I was going to leave it because I was tired and frustrated, but I knew you couldn't stand a half-ass job on things. We loosened everything back up and refastened with the spacer in place. That is what you would have done. I couldn't help but think if I were helping you do the project, I probably would have impatiently huffed at you for forgetting the spacer. I internally apologized to you for every time I ever did that. I would take back every one of those moments right now to have just a few more minutes with you. Anyway, I am thankful that you taught me how to use the sprockets over the last couple of years. I feel confident with tools due to your instruction and patience with me.

I finished mowing and started to weed whip. I had to find the battery in the basement where we store for the winter for the weed whip. I finally did. I am thankful we bought the battery operated weed whip last year so you could easier perform the task. It makes it easier for me today. About 1/4 of the yard through, the weed whip ran out of string. I have to get the manual and determine how to thread new string. But, I couldn't find the string, so it doesn't matter. Another errand I now have to run for our family.

I think the van needs an oil change, too.

In addition, the gutter attachments we used last fall when we added the patio did not handle the winter very well. I need to fix those or determine a more suitable alternative for our patio. It is supposed to rain 1/2 inch tonight and our sump pump has been running a lot.

In between all this, I have broken up countless fights, corrected inappropriate language, forced sharing between a bunch of selfish entitled children, limited TV and video game time, cleaned up from a party last night and I just realized I forgot to eat breakfast as I look at the clock and realize I need to fix lunch for the kids.

Tomorrow is our anniversary, by the way.

That brings me back to my original point.

I miss you, yet I can barely find the time to write to tell you that. I miss you for practical reasons right now more then emotional. I hope you can forgive me for that. I am sorry. This family is just not whole without you. The everyday, practical things are reminding me of that right now.

I miss you, Brian. I love you.

KEEP BELIEVING