"20 Seconds of Courage!"

I yelled at a man over a parking lot. I was not angry. I was pleading with the only broken heart that can end the misery he started. There were hedges and 40 yard between us. I stood in a circle. This time he was just walking away.

The night before I watched "We Bought a Zoo" with my children. They had seen it before and Lilli wanted me to watch the movie. I couldn't make it through the first time, too many memories surfaced under my scars. They were excited about the movie and felt a connection with the two children characters, so I made myself watch. Walking into the kitchen at some points, squeezing the kitchen sink hoping that it will hold me up, remembering the pain, depression, and deep hole left in my heart after our loss, and then returning with a red face and popcorn. Remembering my children's first months without their Daddy, and trying to heal "my littles" with whatever strength I had left in me at the time. I MADE myself watch the movie, because it was important to my children.

I do not enjoy going to calendar calls. I do not even have any satisfaction from seeing the face of the driver or him seeing mine. My hands and voice shake so much so I want to scream. My heart beats so fast, it makes me mad it's not for something fun. I want to throw up. I MAKE myself attend these painful 10 minute to hour long sessions of hogwash, because my children deserve an answer from SOMEONE! When all this is said and done SOMEONE will answer the hard questions about EVERY detail of this drama, and I will be able to say I SHOWED up and did not RUN AWAY.

As hard as it is, it makes me stronger and the honesty leads to great unbelievable happiness in the depths of the heart of my family. I would not be able to "make our happy loud" if I ignored the painful truth of our past. Is your happy loud? Do your children hear you laughing without the worry of your heart crying out to be free? What do you want your life statement to be? As hard as it is, I want my babies to know I uphold the vows I promised to my late beloved to this day, for better or worse, sickness and health, love, honor, cherish, and through sitting in calendar calls and trials without his physical presence beside me IN HONOR of our WORD. For better or worse, it takes courage and I pray for it every single day I wake up. Courage to be honest throughout my days.

I honestly want your life statement to be something of worth and not failure. Running away is failure, bro. Running past your house and further from the scene"for help", because the thought of me still being at your house is failure, bro. Turning around takes courage. Yesterday, I saw the first cry of a lying heart. You MADE yourself turn around, good job.

"20 seconds of COURAGE!" He is still walking away. "20 SECONDS of COURAGE!" Forty yards from me, he turns his body to my direction. "Instead of 52 minutes of FAILURE! That's all I have to say to you, Bro. Peace Out."

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