My husband says I shouldn’t settle into just accepting the limitations. I have muscles that have atrophied, tolerances for activity and normal life that have gone unexercised. I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. Every time I show up to the table, with food prepared that I did not make, that I likely did not even buy or shop for, there’s a voice in the back of my mind asking, “Why is the man with four jobs still doing this?”

I don’t have good answers. As ridiculous as it probably sounds, I am still trying to find my bearings in this present life, in these roles I fill around the house. I was never the type of mom who needed my kids to need me in the way some moms do. As my kids continue to grow, I don’t necessarily find myself wondering what my future purposes in life could or would be without kids. But I do find myself disoriented as seasons move.

Nobody cares that we haven’t made cookies or filled the house with the smell of cinnamon applesauce ornaments. Today I ordered a few more Christmas presents online, slightly aching in my heart and in my joints because of the weather. Dad and the kids went to church last night. One mentioned driving around to look at Christmas lights, another child brought up Dad and I fighting. To that I said, “but we don’t do that anymore.”

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