Antigua

So. In keeping with the theme of Recovery Summer and the intense desire to run away that comes on the heels of the worst situation ever, the Hubs and I booked ourselves a trip to get the hell outta’ dodge. We just returned from 5 glorious days in the Caribbean looking like 2 tanned, smiling, stuffed piggies. The result of over-indulgence in sun, food, adult beverages and, ahem, other adult activites.

What started out as a trip designed to provide some healing turned into a trip that was unknowingly a desperately needed rendezvous between husband and wife. It had been far too long since I had been simply, my husband’s wife. It’s a position in my life that I’m proud of, a position I enjoy. In the daily ins and outs of life it has become almost impossible for me to wind down enough to just be a wife. Being a mother and stay at home mom always seem to fight for space in my thoughts. As a mother, my thoughts float to the twins and to my daughter. I have the normal worries I assume other parents have. Worries that I’m not being the best parent, that I’ve failed her somehow, that she’s not independent enough. I especially worry about the lasting effects on A due to my shattered emotional state after losing the girls. I just haven’t been fully present and I hope I haven’t eternally scarred her. As a stay at home mom, 99% of the household responsibilities fall to me. It’s difficult to spilt household chores when your husband is a road warrior. It’s not meant to be a complaint, just the facts.

So, I say all that to say that the Carribbean sun or maybe the sand, or quite possibly the unlimited adult beverages have magical properties. One, or all of the above gave me whatever I needed to literally let every thing else go and solely focus on my husband. Or maybe it was the upgrade to Penthouse #3. It takes a lot to get me to the point where I literally cannot stop smiling and as we were being shown around our Penthouse, I had the biggest grin plastered on my face that would not go away. It was a wonderful feeling. Or maybe it was the knowledge that as a couple, we could run circles around all those honeymooners that thought they had it all figured out. It was a wonderful experience neither of us will forget. Ever. And it was certainly one of the better ideas we’ve ever had.

I also want to mention a thought I had while on the plane. At 38,000 feet, was I any closer to the girls? I mean, if Heaven is truly in the sky somewhere, then yes, I was physically closer. It was a thought that gave me some comfort and of course, made me cry.

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