On a cool-for-Miami March morning, the day I dreaded for so long had come: My marriage was over. As my ex-husband left the home for good, I prepared for life as a single mother. My then 2-year-old and I quickly made a warm, loving home out of our brand-new townhouse for two, and without skipping a beat—aside from a bout of flu that hit us both almost instantly—life went on.
在三月份一个萧瑟的早晨(迈阿密),我害怕已久的那一天到来了:我的婚姻结束了。前夫永远地离开了我们的家,我也开始准备做一位单身妈妈。那时,我和我2岁的孩子很快就从新买的别墅中收拾了两间房,开始了充满温馨和爱的生活——除了一场流感几乎将我俩都打倒外,我们生活得很好——生活也还在继续。
That constant ache now replaced by adrenaline, forced me to keep moving forward in whatever way I felt was best for my daughter and me. But I still clung on to the belief that something was coming, something greater than I had ever known, and it was this sense of knowing that brought me peace every night when I lay my head down at night.
那种持续的痛苦现在已被肾上腺素所取代,迫使我为了女儿和自己以最好的姿态继续生活。但我仍旧坚信,爱会来临的,这种爱比以往遇到的更为热烈,而每晚抚我安睡、伴我入眠的正是这一信念。
That's not to say this time in my life wasn't difficult. It was—single motherhood is not for the faint of heart. "All I know, is that I'm not done with love yet," I'd tell anyone who inquired about my next steps.
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