Cowardice

Written 8/18 and forgotten…

I know it’s a coping strategy – wholly reasonable and acceptable by most standards, but I feel guilty. This morning when the kids woke up I wanted to play, share their youthful enthusiasm, and take heart from the knowledge that some of that enthusiasm was because of me. This morning when my wife was quietly reading the news, sipping her coffee, I snuck up behind her for one of several hugs, reminding her how much I love her. This evening my dad came over for dinner and I was determined to be in a good mood, to discuss happy times, and chat up common interests.

Now everyone has gone to bed and I can’t help but slide back into this funk I can only assume is a blood relative to survivor’s guilt. I know my mother would want me to be happy. Some part of me believes that there’s nothing wrong with enjoying time with family; and that cheering up dad is probably a good thing. I’m glad to do it and all, I just feel guilty doing it.

Give the gift of words.