To be fair, I am a million times better off on Sundays than other single moms. I have help getting the kids ready and out the door Sunday mornings--which is a good thing since we have church at 8:30. Most importantly, I do not have to wrestle my children alone in sacrament meeting. My mom colors with Mary, my brother Daniel keeps David from running into the aisle, and my dad helps clean up the disaster area that is our pew.
But Sundays are still hard.
The saddest part is that after church, I'm not looking for anyone. I reunite with my children after their classes...and then we leave. In the chaotic, social hub-bub of the halls, I'm not looking for Greg. I don't stand on my tippy toes, trying to see his head among the crowd of suits and ties. Once I have Mary in one hand and David in the other, we march straight to our car. And I feel very alone. Church is a family affair. And herding my kids across the church parking lot without a husband to chase after them makes me keenly aware that our family is not quite whole right now.
Today Mary, David, and I attended tithing settlement--that annual Mormon rite of warm handshakes in the bishop's office. It's something you do as a family, a mom, a dad, and a pile of kids all basking in the bishop's warm smile. I missed Greg so much. It's not that it was difficult to do myself. But sometimes it just feels hard to press on alone. It feels lonely.
Here are a few pictures from our Sunday today:
And now I am going to bed. When I wake up it won't be Sunday anymore. It will be Monday...and I'm not sure that's any better.
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