It's 4 a.m. and I'm supposed to be sleeping but sleep seems to be far off in the distance so I'm parked in front of the computer, as usual. My new goal is to shut the computer off at night so that I'm not tempted to check e-mail and browse Facebook, thereby getting sucked into a vortex of "time death" whereby my day is wasted playing frivolous games like "Farmville". Of course, I forgot to shut the computer off last night so where do I drift when I'm awakened at 0'dark thirty by an unhappy tummy? The computer, of course. Anyway, I attempted to utilize my time wisely by sorting through photos from our trip to Belgium to post here for family and the hubby to view when I decided to browse my list of blogs that inspire me. Recently, a designer named Christine Middlecamp was featured as a guest designer on Ali Edwards blog and I was so inspired by the featured project, I bookmarked her blog for future viewing and this morning seemed to be the perfect time to do so. As I was reading through her blog, I was stunned to learn that Christine lost her husband to cancer last year and is raising her son alone. I was partly moved because Joe's Aunt Jinger is currently battling cancer but also because Christine is raising a son who is just a few years old...just a little guy. Her story and courage really touched me. The artwork featured on her blog is so bright and bubbly and inspiring that it made me want to craft and create and visit my own meager little blog to make it better. So then I'm back to loading photos like a good girl when suddenly I look at the above photo and start bawling. Yes, bawling! It hit me that we had taken this wonderful trip to Belgium only Joe wasn't with us and how I'm often just as alone in raising my children as the designer whose husband died. (I'm sorry if this is too intense for a blog posting so feel free to click elsewhere to a happier place on the Internet.) While writing and crafting are sources of therapy for me, sometimes the best thing is to just break down and have a good cry! I try so hard to be strong for Joe, for the kids, for the people in my life who need me that I forget that it is okay NOT to be Super-Mom, Super-Wife, Super-Person and end up bawling in front of my computer like I am now. I guess I feel like I shouldn't grieve so deeply for my missing husband when I live such a blessed life. Since Joe has been deployed I've been stunned by the number of people who have come out of the woodwork, so to speak, to encourage me so I guess I feel guilty for breaking down. Cards, phone calls, e-mail, invitations to lunch or game night: all have been plentiful and such an encouragement. Joe's aunt is fighting for her life and I'm crying because Joe couldn't be here for a family trip! Seems silly and trivial when viewed from that perspective, doesn't it? Anyway, I know it's okay for me to cry and perhaps it will help me to have more empathy and compassion for others when they struggle through the challenges of life. Well, I guess I should end my blogging therapy here and attempt to get more sleep. If not, I'll probably see you around Facebook :)