It’s 11 p.m.

I know where my kids are.

My daughter sleeps upstairs. I waited patiently for her today at her school’s carnival after she ran off with some friends.

“Sorry I ditched you, mama,” she said.

“It’s alright.”

“Yes, but you seemed a bit lonely.”

“I would have let you know if it wasn’t okay.”

When we got home, we read half of Tin Tin’s Adventure in America before she went to sleep with her stuffed toy dog, Twyla.

My son is asleep in the crib six feet away. He looks like a slumbering cherub in sky blue zip-up pajamas.

I don’t know where my husband is. He’s gone to a twelve-step meeting and has probably gone out with some group members after.

I have finished Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead after several months. Besides enjoying it for its literary beauty and confident self-declaration -- a little heavy on the poetic rhapsodizing at times -- I made myself finish this book to bolster my own faith in God.

Then I did some Sudoku. I have spent many hours completing these puzzles and a few tossing out the ones that were too hard and not fun anymore.

Sudoku occupies my mind without loading it with more bits of information that stir up emotions. I have enough emotions currently.

My husband and I talk very little these days. The counselor says its okay because he is too angry and the situation too volatile.

Sometimes, even simple exchanges turn into some sort of accusation or generalized negative comment on his part, and some lamentable defense on my part. Neither of us feels better. Will we make it?

I am lonely. I am tired. I am weary. As alway --  I will survive, and thrive.

By Vicki Inglis

Labels: counselor, Gilead, God, husband, Sudoku, Vicki Inblis

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