Healing from the trauma, my eight-year marriage caused me left me some nights of tear-stained pillows. I cried at 12am New Year Day as I heard fireworks go off from my hotel room. Eli and Alina were asleep in bed as I stood with the window slightly opened, holding onto one of the cream beige curtains. I made it to 2022 without him physically with or around me. Him being my husband. After spending damn near 9 years of welcoming in the New Year with him, 

Photo by Alonso Reyes on Unsplash

Book an Uber and go! That's what I've been doing with my children. I have been taking my kids with me to see the city and have fun more than my spouse ever did. Before I had Alina, I was stuck inside with Eli throughout the week. The furthest I would go with my son was around the neighborhood blocks we lived in while he rode his bike on the sidewalk. 

As you read this, I am still in a hotel room in Baton Rouge. It's almost 10pm. Both Eli and Alina have been resting peacefully for about two hours. I have watched a Netflix movie, showered, and practiced some self-care. Today was a smooth day. I remained inside with the kids all day and have plans on getting out and about tomorrow. 

The morning was calm and was brought in with smiles from both my children. My alarm on my phone went off at 6am, and I immediately thanked God for a new day. I sang "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" to my children before heading into the kitchen to make us breakfast. I was at peace this Christmas.