I'm forcing myself to write this because I just spent the past twenty minutes reading over all of my posts from 2008 (there were only a few of them) and felt I should mention what has been happening.

Elizabeth, that amazing Bibble Baby, was not walking much when we came back from Florida, not without much help. Then, one day in late June she had one hand on the coffee table and decided, on her own and without coaxing from her parents, to leave the steely bonds of, uhm, furniture. She walked away from the table and was delighted at the reaction of her parents - and that was it. She has not stopped walking since. She has a build in speedometer: her hands. You see, she walks with her hands in front of her. Hands at chest level is a steady walk, hands at eye-level indicate a hurried trot - if the hands go above the head then she's saying, "Gang way, I'm comin' through!"

She talks and babbles (Bibble-babbles, of course) and has started to emulate words. She knows the dog as "dag-dag" and we frequently change her "di-di", and sometimes she will say "da-da" and make me really wonder if she's talking about me.

I want, so very badly, to rail and scream and shout at what's happened lately, but I can't. Vickie moved out last Friday but spent the night on the couch to finish cleaning the next morning. That Saturday was Elizabeth's first birthday and her grandfather and all her father's friends came to bring gifts and wish her a happy birthday. They were also there to provide emotional support for me, and despite the drama (isn't there always drama?) we had a good time and lots of productive talk. Sunday I was unfit for work from the exhaustion of the weekend and essentially being over-stressed, so I stayed home.

The house was empty, and lifeless. I tried to occupy my mind, but it was so damned quiet. Even when the kids are at home and they haven't woken up then there was the quiet of trying not to wake them - hard to explain... the "quiet" was louder than the "empty", if that makes any sense. Regardless, it was terrible and although I told everyone that I fully expected a slow decline to depression, I was not prepared for the emotional sledgehammer that broke me. My family was gone. My daughter, my stepchildren, my wife and my best friend were gone from me. I cried harder than when Mom died and I couldn't stop, I'd just wander from room to room and share my misery. I don't mean to get so "dramatic" here, but - well, there's no excuse, I just wanted to get it put down. I've gone from the epitome of bliss to the depths of bereavement. I miss my kids. I miss my wife.

I still see her - it's only Tuesday after all and there are still things to be sorted out. I stayed the night at her apartment last night so that she wouldn't have to drive the kids to my place at 6am the next day. So I have yet to go a day without seeing them, but they're not "here". They're not "now". And throughout it all my faith is still unbroken. I can't lie about that, I feel that we are supposed to be together and that our family is the right way. I can forgive her of anything. Can I forgive more than this? Sadly, probably.

I don't want anything negative said about her or what she's done, so please keep that in mind in the comments - throughout it all she's the woman I love and it is my duty to honor, cherish and defend her.