#faawns

She closed the bedroom door behind her with a soft click, hand lingering on the knob for a few seconds too long before letting go. Her littlest ones had finally gone down for a much needed nap, exhausted from the day’s events. For a moment, Hannah was frozen in her spot; the breath in her lungs stuttered to a halt, as if someone had pulled the ground from under her and waited to fall through. Truthfully, the past week—which had been a living nightmare strung together by silent tears and half-hearted reassurances—left her feeling that exact way, waiting on bated breath for the moment when the grief would finally pull her under. 

But it never did. Hannah was far too busy trying to be strong, making sure that her family was thriving and planning her husband’s funeral. Her children had already lost their father; they didn’t need to lose a mother too. And when she wasn’t strong, she was numb. 

Movement became possible after a few deep breaths. Hannah steadied herself with a hand on the wall, absently tracing faded crayon marks and picture frame corners along the way. She managed to pad her way back to the living room. What was once a warm, incandescent space suddenly felt so cold, even in the presence of her two eldest daughters. Hannah sank into the couch upon arrival, the limbs that had been threatening to buckle all day finally given reprieve. 

“ Girls, ” Hannah called out into the quiet that hung around them. The voice that fought its way out of her chest registered as barely above a whisper. She opened both palms on either side of her, free for both of her daughters to take. “ Come here, please. ”