It seems like so long ago and yet it was only this morning. He spoke to me, quietly so that only I could hear him. She ran her hands along my body, stopping mid-stroke when she encountered tight and knotted muscles. All the while, I could feel his presence.
We communicated, he and I. I asked him what he thought about my sending B to live with his brother. I feared disappointment, but there wasn’t any. Instead, he reminded me of how important male communication is for a boy of B’s age.
Another thing that he told me was that it was time for me to take care of myself. He was glad that I was taking the time for a massage, but he also recognized that I have been putting the kids’ needs ahead of mine to a fault.
It’s now time to be nice to me. The positive strokes need to begin somewhere. Why not here? And now!