I'm allowed to feel sorry for myself sometimes

I woke up this morning at about 5am, due to general anxiety and the time change. When the kids got up, I mentioned that I had been up since before 5am. They nodded and went on with their business. It struck me that I no longer have anyone who cares. If Ken were here, he wouldn't make a big deal of the fact that I couldn't sleep, but he would say something like, "Poor baby," or "Tonight will be better." Some acknowledgement. And he would keep my sleeplessness in the back of his mind and excuse my grumpiness later in the day. And he would begin to worry if the problem repeated itself.

But now there's no one. Sure my kids love me, but I'm supposed to take care of them. They're not supposed to take care of me.

Ken's parents would always end their phone calls to us with "Take care of each other." And we did.

I want him to be here to take care of me now. I want him here to tell me everything will be all right.