Life goes on even for those of us who are divorced, broke and sloppy. — The Odd Couple

The worst day of my life, up to that point, was the day I came home and the house was silent.  No sounds of dinner being made, no singing from the kids’ rooms, no cartoons on the TV.  Most of the furniture was gone, as were the toys and clothes, but hand-drawn pictures and cut-outs were still taped to Little Bear’s door.

My family was gone, and I lived in the shell that used to be our home for months before I could get things well enough together to move on.  It took me almost two weeks before I could go in Girlie Bear’s room to clean it up and pack away what little was left.

I was down in a hole, and there wasn’t much sunlight reaching me.

It took months, but eventually I could look up again.  Friends started commenting that it was good to see me smile again, and as the day that I would see the kids grew closer, I did it more and more.

I didn’t really notice when the new normal started to feel pretty good, but it probably came at some point after I started having the kids for weekends on a pretty regular basis.  It took a lot of work, as well as a huge disruption in everyone’s life, but I figured it out.  Someone was there for me to lean on, and they had the wherewithal to know when to listen and when to kick me in the butt.

Life gets better, so long as you’re willing to not give up.  Maybe, for a time, all you’re doing is going through the motions, but eventually you will come out the other side and stand in the sunlight again.