You know those days. The ones where you beat yourself up. The ones where you are feeling sorry for yourself, you know you're doing it, and you just can't stop it. That's what today is for me. I really thought we would have, at the very least, met Squishy by now. I feel it as a loss, like I was supposed to have this and I don't and I feel cheated. How ridiculous is that? How selfish? What my head knows, is that I should be thinking about how Squishy feels. I should be sad for him having to go (another?) Christmas without a family of his own. I should be on my knees praying that God brings comfort to ALL the Squishies in the world who are waiting for their forever families. But, here I sit. Pity party, table for one!
I worry about Cowboy, and the incredible pain he's in. He'll be having hip replacement surgery in three weeks, and he's not even 40 yet! My heart breaks for him and the hell he's living right now. I pray furiously for him. If anyone deserves a break in this life, it's my Cowboy. I've never in my life known a man so kind, compassionate, generous. I would give anything to take the pain from him.
On the plus side, it's almost Christmas! The house is decorated, the gifts are wrapped, the love is boundless! We have helped friends, indulged our children, and celebrated with friends. And, though I complain from time to time (see above), I could not have dreamed of a better life, and I thank God every day for these blessings! Merry Christmas!
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