November 13

     It's fall. I hate fall because it means winter will ultimately come. Less light. Sometimes days go by with hardly any light and it is all I can do to get going. But it has always been like that. He announces to our therapist that I am depressed. Over medicated. Am suffering from an unhappy childhood, from having cared for sick and dying parents. That is the reason I want to leave. That is why he says I've changed. It's not because for all of my children's surgery's, I was alone in the waiting room; telling friends on the phone that yes, He was there with me.  Too sad to admit that He wasn't. And after years of pleading for Him to understand that there really is nothing wrong with me wanting the most for our kids, keeping their needs in the forefront, wanting them to have the childhood I may not quite have had, I've decided perhaps somewhere deep down I do know I may be right.  Somehow, He doesn't view the world the same way I do. It's not His fault. It's not my fault. It's just the way it turned out. And now, unlike before, with winter on the horizon, so is a new beginning, perhaps with hope instead of despair. And perhaps now, my parents will stop spinning in their graves over what I've let happen to my life. Once completely invisible, I'm slowly coming back. Even if only in black and white.....