More Than This

CW: Grief

This is not what I signed up for. She sighed to herself as her twin 22 month old boys raced through the house. She braced herself against the impact as they both slammed headlong into her, one on each leg, babbling in a language only they seemed to understand, but that clearly showed their unbreakable and immeasurable bond.

Like they were powered by jet packs, they took off again, sailing into the other room, clamoring over their toys as they laughed and played, their shrieks and giggles carrying through the otherwise silent house. Their energy was simultaneously exhausting and enviable. It was everything she wished she had right now, even if the idea of it made her want to do nothing more than sleep for days.

Now, her days were spent fighting the sleep she knew her body and mind so desperately needed, while her nights were restless with insomnia as the darkness finally allowed her thoughts to quietly consume her. Every waking moment she struggled, grasping, trying to find something more than this… this... more than this.

More than these toys strewn haphazardly across every available surface begging to be used as weapons against bare feet and siblings, intentionally or otherwise.

More than dirty diapers, runny noses and food-covered clothing. More than drool and vomit and wondering what that sticky mess actually was on any area within reach of pudgy little fingers.

More than the emptiness and solitude and desolation that filled everything around her.

She had been tucked, quite untidily, into this role without ever having seen it coming and the effects had been nothing short of devastating.

She wearily rested her forehead in her hands, leaning over on the counter for support. The cold of the linoleum pressed through her skin, seeping somewhere deep into her bones. God, why the hell had this all happened?

It might have been doable had she not been left to manage everything alone. If he was still here with her, maybe she wouldn’t be left feeling so helpless and overwhelmed. Maybe. Sure, parenting could be overwhelming even under the best of circumstances, but they had always said it was them against the world. A team who could conquer anything that life threw at them. Anything.

“I vow, from this day forward, that all of me is with all of you. Through better or worse, I will be by your side; I will fight with you through anything as long as we agree to fight together through even the worst that the world can bring. I love you, Angie. You are everything that completes me and I will forever strive to be everything that completes you… until the very last breath I ever take.”

But it was just her now. She wasn’t sure how to suddenly become a team of one and she had already discovered that all of the pain and anger and guilt in the world weren’t ever going to be enough to bring him back. It had been only three weeks. Three of the longest weeks of her existence and there was no end in sight.

”Dead on impact,” the solemn-faced young officer had told her as he stood somberly at her door, his hands clutching his cap, feet shifting nervously. Those three little words had been left hanging in the air in front of her, suffocating in their magnitude. After that, only fragments of what he said had actually reached her through the ringing in her ears and the disbelief that swam in her head.

”Drunk driver… Median… Head on… Sorry for your loss.”

His last breath had come so much sooner than either of them had anticipated. She would never see his smile again. The way it crinkled his eyes at the corners and made them sparkle. The way that, just because he was who he was, that smile could make everything ok when only moments before life had seemed out of control and chaotic as a life with small children was prone to do. She would never again know the comfort of his touch, his kiss, his embrace…

Tears threatened again, though it seemed impossible that there could be anything left. What the hell could this man possibly have known about her loss? Why were they programmed to say things for situations they could never in a million years understand?

”Hey, I’m on my way home. Do you need anything?” Five minutes out of his way to grab a much needed cappuccino for her on the way home. Something warm and sweet and soothing so she could relax for a few minutes and maybe get enough of a caffeine boost to stay up that evening and finish everything that needed doing: dishes, bills, the never-ending pile of laundry filled with tiny clothing.

That one small, seemingly inconsequential detour had destroyed her life. Her family’s life. Had she only known how anything-but-inconsequential that request would be, she would never have made it. Her face dropped into her hands and she wept freely for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

The baby began to wail inconsolably in the other room, the screams and antics of his brothers once again serving to wake him from a nap that was all too short. Sighing, she raked her fingers through her hair and brushed away her tears as she headed to his crib. She scooped him up, holding him tightly to her and breathed in his baby scent. He nuzzled his face into her neck and she allowed herself to be calmed by his grunts and soft baby noises.

The twins scampered into the nursery, racing over to see what all the commotion had been. She wiped the remaining dampness from her cheeks.

“Lub-ooo, Mommy!” they chorused as they latched tightly to her legs with their tiny chubby arms. She reached down, marveling at them and how resilient they had been through all of this as she tousled their soft blonde curls. Their father’s curls.

“Mommy loves you, too, babies.”

They always seemed to know when she needed more.

And this… this was more.