3. HOME, SWEET HOME

JULIET, HOME, SWEET HOME

Calling it an airplane is being generous and my nerves are sky-high from the minute they start the propeller manually to the minute I step on solid ground again. The girls do well for their first time flying and their crying is minimal, mostly during takeoff until their ears pop and then they’re fine. I manage a few hours of sleep and before long, we’re coasting along on a lake as the plane lands. I unload the girls once we ‘park’ while my fellow campmates help unload the cargo we brought on the plane with us – food supplies, camp stuffs and other materials to keep us going until the next supply plane, four months from now. Planning ahead for two babies for that long requires a tremendous number of diapers so I was forced to make the switch to cloth, simply because I needed a plane trip just for diapers alone otherwise. Living this remotely will require a lot of other adjustments but I was forewarned before I came and know what to expect – I hope. I’m sure there’ll be things that come up because life seems to enjoy it’s cruel jokes.

I wouldn’t be a widow at twenty-three otherwise.

The girls and I will live in our own cabin, private yet still within shouting distance of the main lodge should I ever need help. It is tiny but more than enough to keep clean with two growing babies and a more than full-time job when I’m working – when we have guests. If the lodge isn’t booked, I stay busy with paperwork, bookings and general cleaning. When we have guests it is a whole other ballgame and it never ends the entire time they’re here. If a guest needs more towels, whichever staff is closest will get it but I’m the one who takes the call – night and day. If there is a complaint, special request or concern it all comes through me and I see it gets handled, be it by the main office or onsite if we can. I have an office in the lodge and I take my daughters with me to work, taking breaks whenever they need me. As the only woman and the youngest staff member by half, my girls have five ‘grandpas’ who help look out for them and are tremendous support.

They’re also become wonderful friends.

Fall arrives early this far north which marks the beginning of our slow season, since it is so difficult to access our location. As long as the weather holds, hunters fly in from all over North America to partake in the large predators in this region. We’re booked solid until the first blast of Arctic chill blows through, blanketing everything in white. After that, supplies and guests are more irregular as planes are only able to fly when the weather is cooperative.

Having already been terrorizing everyone for a couple of months with their rolling and grabbing abilities, the girls start crawling within one day of the other as I mark the eight months anniversary of their father’s death. Eight months since Markus left me pregnant with his children, eight months since my world came to a catastrophic and abrupt end.

Only to restart six days later.

With no other choice, refusing to fail our children I have pushed forward and moved on – because I’ve had to. As much as I’ve wanted to crawl under my blankets and never come out again, I couldn’t because of two little darlings who needed me more – they’re the reason I get up every morning. Without them, I may as well have died with Markus because I feel empty inside, like I’ve been stepped on repeatedly and am unable to get up again. This hollowness hasn’t gone away once or even lessened but with my children, I’m able to tolerate it… ignore it.

I get through the day.

I do what needs to be done because I have to and I will continue to do so, because my daughters need me. Juliet Carson ‘died’ that day with her husband – she ceased to exist and now all that remains is Sophia and Bridget’s Mommy. She is the only identity that is left who is worth a damn and she has the most important job of all, raising these two beautiful souls.

Juliet is gone, Mommy remains.

With my friends and coworkers I laugh and play along but inside, I feel none of the emotions I should. There is no joy, there is no peace – only darkness and sorrow. My heart once soared with love and now it is blackened charcoal, as burned up as Markus’ car. My life before is gone and none of it matters anymore – the only thing I live for now are my babies.

Otherwise, I’m not worth it.