When I leave.

When I leave, it is the most unnatural thing to do. I find myself sitting in the car for several minutes beyond the time that I have watched you follow your dad inside, windows up so the mosquito's do not invade my space and travel home with me, dive-bombing me as I drive along the winding country roads.

When I leave, I leave you with him. I leave my reason to wake up in the morning, my everything, with the person that I divorced. I leave you with the person that I said I do not want to be around me. I leave you with my ex. I leave you with my past. I leave you with the broken pieces of the life I discarded. I leave you with your dad, and I get to drive away.

You are ten and six. Little ladies, so full of love, so full of trust. My six year old suddenly talks on the phone. Do you know how unnatural it is to be that distant from your babies that you have to talk with them on a phone? My children had never used a phone up until six months ago. I noticed that last night, my six year old now carries on full conversations on this talking device that connects the span between two now distant lives. I am used to conversations where their breath tickles my face, where I can wrap my arms around their baby bodies, where they have no concept of personal space, because we have always been so close.

You sleep in a bed, in a house, and eat food, off a plate, and do things, I assume, of which I have no knowledge. In your absence, I hang out with the dogs, I let the cat sleep in my bed. Yes he did wake me at one and pick his nails with his teeth. I potter around, I eat cereal. No point in cooking if my babies are not home.

I watched you follow your daddy into the house on Friday. He had bags full of treasures from the store. Yahtzee. A pink inflatable furry chair. You helped carry in these things... Your heads were cocked with the pride of little girls so enamored with their father. Your arms held these bags of treasures ahead of you, like some spoils from some battle. You entered the house, shut the door and I sat, like some third wheel in the drive way.

I wish that bags full of colourful treasures, that all the board games in the world, could make up for your loss. I wish that adult politics never had to cast even a shadow, yet create a rain cloud, on the sunny days of your youth. I pray so much for your lives. I pray for the influence of people who you will meet along the way. I pray especially for the people that are brought into your life by your parents. I pray for you to retain your innocence... Lord Jesus... I pray your precious blood over those babies...The adults in their selfishness have hurt two beautiful little girls. Forgive me dear Lord and help me to be the mom that they need.