As I think back to the few moments when I dropped our children off at my sister's house, I feel the guilt all over again. I knew I needed to remain calm and to try and gather my thoughts, but I remember feeling frazzled. I do not think I ever panicked, but I was probably pretty close to it. I had no idea how long I would be gone when I left them that day. I had very little information to share with them. I never wanted to give them a false hope that Heath would survive, nor did I want them to give up hope while he was still with us. I am sure they felt fear from the uncertainty of the situation. I am sure they questioned if they would ever see their daddy again. He was our rock solid. He was the anchor of our home. Everyone that lived under the roof of our house turned to him for comfort, leadership and wisdom. He loved, protected and provided for each one of his children, the same way he had always done for me. This is a challenge I never hoped to encounter.
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