We are on a one way track to healing.
Chugging down the track, snotty horns a blaring into my Kleenex.
The rickety old train with its heavier than normal road.
Chugging along.
Not making a stop.
Not picking anything up.
Just chugging along.
You want to get on this train?
Observe carefully.
Run along and jump.
This train can’t stop.
It may never start again.
This train wants to hide in the shed.
But with three wee train cars on the back, there ain’t no rest.
Weekends, the big handsome steam locomotive comes along to give us a pull.
But other than that we are stuck with the dirty, coal steam engine.
Chugging.
On the track.
Teary eyes forward.
Trying hard not to fall off.
Wow, this is one big hill.
“I think I Cann, I think I Cann!”
"Be" ENOUGH 
what I have found from single parent days (and I have many as you know) is that we are generally doing a much better job then we, the moms, think we are. I know your train is loaded down right now with extra, like grief, on top of everything else, but be kind to yourself. Your boys have so much more then a dirty old engine during the week guiding them. She is strong and beautiful and full of wisdom.
I feel that my parenting has gotten 100 times better in my grief. There is nothing like the gift of death to strip away all the frivolous things. We are enjoying simple times here in KCity.