My heart is so broken.
Shattered. In pieces.
I don’t remember a hurt like this—it’s everywhere, in every thought, every breath. My eyes are slits and my nose is raw and sore and the tears just keep coming and coming til it doesn’t seem possible I have more, and then I do.
I’m making myself move—fold the laundry, clean the counter, weigh the puppies and worm them, walk Thelma, pull a few weeds, put shoes in their cubbies, anything so that I don’t just sit and sob, which is all I’ve been doing for days. I can’t eat and I’ve had so much tea, I have the shakes. I can’t talk because it comes out a squeak and if anyone says anything nice to me I fall apart. If you’ve called or messaged me and I haven’t answered, I apologize.
I’ve canceled every puppy visit, moved the party we were supposed to host. I am hunkered down, doing only the things I can, which is nothing that requires my heart or my brain because my heart is in a million pieces and my brain is doing all it can to keep me upright.
I have had to make the most impossible decision. Maybe the most painful of my life. And, while some of you will argue with me, there truly wasn’t a choice.
On Thursday, Frankie attacked my daughter. Continue reading “The Most Impossible Decision”