If You Could Only See…

Published on Monday, June 28, 2010 by Katherine

If you could only see this moon. Full with a deep orange hue, slowly rising over the dark ocean water.

Just a few days ago I was at home crying, overwhelmed at just how out of control things have gotten. At how I am so behind on bills that I know I will never catch up. At how I am driving a dangerous car, at how I can’t afford to send my kids to Catholic school anymore, and at how the bill collectors are memorizing my number as we speak. At how I need $1,500. FAST.

At how my house is so beat up that I can’t stand living in it anymore, much less having other people over. I miss inviting friends for a home-grilled summer dinner. I miss being proud of my house. I hate the fact that I can’t even buy a can of paint.

At how my children have no clothes that fit. At how simply buying a bag of socks for one of them is a huge triumph. At how my clothes are faded and worn, my hair is horrendous because I can’t pay to get it cut and at how every pair of socks I own have holes in the toes.

At how my dog was dying in front of me, unable to eat or drink – and at how the vet wants to run tests that I can’t afford. At how I may have to make a very hard decision very soon. And at how this all happened the day before we all left for vacation at the beach house.

I had not slept for a week.

So here I am in Corolla. It’s Sunday and I am blessed to have four more full days here before leaving Friday night. I’ve got my children with me, my mother, her cousin, my brother and his two wonderful girls. It’s a full house alright.

For now, pain pills are allowing my dog to eat and walk again, if not with a little spring in her step. The time away from tree pollen and grass is a blessing. As is the view of her sitting on the deck literally smiling as the breeze blows back her sweet soft ears.

And I am temporarily away from THE BAD. Every once in a while the thoughts creep back in to my head. When they do, I immediately run them out by breathing in a chest full of salty air. I grab my daughter’s hand and in to the amazingly clear and beautiful ocean we run.

How lucky I am to have three healthy children, a wonderful family and an escape that is about as close to heaven as you can get. My daughter and I have literally thanked God out loud daily for the warm waters, the white sand and the glorious sunshine.

I am officially on my escape. And it could not have come a moment too soon. Briefly I was disappointed that I was starting a vacation with so much on my back. But then I realized this is probably exactly when it needed to be.

So I plan to embrace every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every second. And I’m going to hold this time close to my heart for as long as I possibly can.

If you could only see this moon. Full with a deep orange hue, slowly rising over the dark ocean water.