Proof

Not a day passes that I don't look around and wonder how I got here. In such a short time everything has changed. I find myself searching longingly, sometimes desperately for the familiar. Something to hold on to that represents my life to this point. Surrounded by the "things" I have had for years is not enough. In this home, this life, they take on a whole different look and feel. I try to cover the empty hole left by my husbands departure and yet no amount of stuffing can fill it. There is an ache that has become as much apart of my being as the freckles on my face. I know that it will dull as time passes and yet I am afraid to let it. If the pain is gone, then what proof is there that the past 21 years of my life even happened at all? I close my eyes and let the tears slide down my face once again. That is when I hear my children's laughter from the "man cave" downstairs. I hear them giggle and chatter and I am reminded that they are the proof. They are all the familiarity I need. Wherever they are is where I belong and this is where we are today. For today, this has to be enough.