Why is picking up the pieces so hard?

Why is picking up the pieces so hard?

Stuck mired in mud… my own self imposed mud… that seems like quicksand… sucking me down… why is it so hard to get out of the mire and not be consumed by the quicksand?

And I feel like every time I get an ounce of motivation to move forward something inhibits me…

Finally… decided to mow the lawn.  Kiddo was still asleep.  It should have been mowed about a month ago.

And… lawnmower won’t start.  I think battery is dead.  My neighbor who always saves me is on the road and won’t be back for about a week.

There I am… mired again… although this time I’ve had an offer of assistance and hope I can get back on the right track.

But I can’t help but think…Why is picking up the pieces so hard?

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About Mary K. Smith

I was widowed in July 2009, when I lost my beloved husband, John, to melanoma. Cancer SUCKS. We have a young son who was just a year old when his father died. I live on a small farm in Maryland which is home to horses, cats, and a dog. I started this blog as a way for me to heal, a way to remember my husband, and eventually I'd like to share it with our son so he can see the love that his father had for him, the love that we had for each other, what a great person his father was, and how hard his father fought to live.
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