I haven’t written lately because it seems like I only think about one thing, and therefore, I only have one thing to write about - how badly my children need to come home and how badly I miss them. So it seems like the only thing I can write about.
When I sleep at night, I always have dreams about my kids. In my dreams, we are back doing the things we did before they were taken, and I hear them laughing and see the expressions on their faces. Then I wake up and realize that they’re not here. Before I get out of bed in the morning, I pray for them to come home. All throughout the day, I say a million prayers asking God to bring them home. Everything I see and everything I do reminds me of them. My daily thoughts consist of “I want my daughter to see this”, or “I want to do that with my son”, etc. There isn’t one aspect of my life where their absence isn’t felt.
Of course, I get up and do what life requires. I clean, cook, work, take care of the house, etc. But even while I do those things, I am only thinking about my kids and how they should be here to be doing things with their mother. When I cook, I want to be cooking for them. When I clean, I remember the times I had to argue with them to clean their rooms. They are a part of every second of my life, and that hasn’t changed now that they’ve been gone for over two years.
Yesterday was the 4th of July, and I wanted so badly to take them to see fireworks. I’m sure they didn’t even realize that yesterday was July 4th. Last year, I was in their father’s country with them on the 4th. I told the kids, “Happy 4th of July!” Their father heard me and got angry. He said, “Don’t say that That’s NOT their holiday, and they won’t celebrate it!” I said, “They’re Americans, and it IS their holiday!”. He got very angry and forbid me to mention it to them again.
I miss them too much. Life is too difficult to live without them.
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