Knowing what’s going to happen is hard. Looking at sweet, honest, people and knowing both the joys and the tragedies—wanting to assure them that a reward is coming or warn them of the dangers ahead, and yet knowing I can’t, is one of the hardest parts of my life.
It was easier when it wasn’t so up front and eye to eye. When I could watch them for a far, I could see the big picture clearly, and could understand why what happened had to happen. When I have to look the in the eye and see their uncertainty, see their questions, it’s so hard for me to not answer them.
Ross doesn’t have this problem, or if he does he hides it better than I can. I guess it makes sense though. Ross has always had to deal with the tougher things, because he loves me and sees how hard the tougher things are for me. He shoulders the weight well, and I am grateful for him every day.
But he can’t protect me from this. He can’t shield me from the look in their eyes. And, truth be told, I wouldn’t want him too. That was the point of coming to see them eye to eye, to actually look, to actually see. Yes, it was hard, but life had to be hard sometimes, right? It was the challenges that made things worth living.
So, I grit my teeth and smile, answer what I can reasonably know. The future has to wait for the future. That’s the way it works, the way it’s always worked. And even if I don’t like it, there is nothing I can do about it now.