I could just cry.
Maiya wept her big brown eyes out last night saying 'I want Daddy to come back and live wif us together'. I rocked and held her sitting cross legged in the laundry room floor silently praying and hoping one day she would understand.
How was I supposed to explain to a barely three-year-old the intricate workings of two grown ups who are trying to find their way?
So instead of saying anything, I just continued to rock her and murmured softly into her tousled hair that she was ok. And that we were all ok.
But I think those words weren't so much for her but for me.
Courage my little Maiya. Courage, my Love. Mama is here and I love you.