Of the many hard adjustments to life as a single mama was the loss of family Saturday nights. In its place were two Saturday nights each month with JT and I as a family of two and then two Saturday nights on my own. I settled into a happy-enough routine with this pattern but it often felt like I was stuck driving down a narrow lane, prone to veering off into dark territory with memories of other, happier ways to spend my weekends.
T's entrance into our lives made everything brighter and offered the happy prospect of the return of family weekends. As much as I wanted satisfying Saturdays to simply materialize overnight, that sort of comfort can't be forced. I was wise enough to realize that we three must find our own way to be a family and I was willing to embrace the uncertainty in pursuit of the goal.
So we've been patiently navigating our togetherness. T has been instrumental to our success, patiently giving JT the space to be 11 (or, more accurately 11-teen) and handling his moods and sass with grace. We're getting there and it's brought me such contentment. With T by my side, it's like I found a missing piece of my life; one that belongs to a different puzzle, the construction of which has brought me a greater happiness than I could have ever imagined.
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