Back in the day

Once upon a time there was this girl, who had it all figured out. HA!

February is always interesting for me, and this year is no different-although it is. This year we celebrated Abigail's 12th birthday and as I looked back through her baby pictures, the memories washed over me again.

But this year was different, as I took captive the painful thoughts and longings. I reminded myself gently that I don't even know him anymore. Abigail's father, the man I married, my best friend is gone. He left a long time ago and the empty shell of a man I see every other week, is a stranger.

This year has changed so many things for me. I have grown in ways I can't express. Mainly...I no longer feel the need to do so. I long to write~I miss it like I miss painting and running. Not because I am good at either, but because it is the only time I feel free.

I am hurting because it is a familiar emotion, and one that comes easily. It opens the floodgates and cleanses my heart. And I don't change it because change scares me.

I see this in my girl and I realize...I must change. I must be better for her.

And so I do.

I miss people because I associate them with the time in my life when I felt like I had it all together. I had life in control. I had accomplished every goal I ever had and I still had my entire life ahead of me. Momma was right~it was the "honeymoon" of my life. Early twenties, newly independent, married to my best friend and Mom to the "perfect" child, a job I was good at and where I felt  valued for the first time and still close enough to see my family daily.

But I had a lot of growing up left to do. I still do.

I see my girls with new eyes. I love them more every day. I am learning to acknowledge their intentions with grace, rather than judge them by their actions. They are simply imitating what they see...Part of this is my responsibility and part of it is something I have no control over. Neither do they.

I look at this girl and I see a younger, more perfect me. I see her father, and all his tenacity and determination. And I cry. Because I have failed her...and I have been given a second chance.