Life is great, but watch out for the rocks!

I got to spend some time with two of my daughters this week.
The tears abounded after I was able to process what exactly it was that was said, and how I felt about everything. In fact, I even hesitate to go through this again, the sadness I felt yesterday on the way home was pretty intense.

Tuesday found me in the car with my friend Michael to keep me company while we drove to drop off the rest of Sara's things to her and eat supper together. (catching up with him is always good) Leaving her again was tear-filled and I wanted to throw her in the car and bring her home with me. Knowing, of course, that the worst possible thing I could do would be to keep her from what she needs to do "out there" I got in my car and drove away. She has what she needs to have a good life. I am so grateful that she is a part of me, that the years we have had together weren't a total disaster! Missing her is a good thing, it means that I am capable of loving someone and feeling connected! The time seems so short looking back, and it probably was, but she is a good person, and I am grateful that we have a solid enough relationship to have a future as Mother and Daughter.

Which brings me to Kerri. She is another one of the sweetest beings on this planet. I so appreciate her honesty with me these last couple of years. The way she has welcomed me into her life and included me in the joy she has is phenomenal. She is so smart, so beautiful, and so determined, it's almost intimidating. She is truly a blessing to the people in her life. However, every time I think of her this last week I have this overwhelming sadness that I can't seem to shake. I know (logically)that putting her up for adoption when she was born was the best thing for both of us at the time. I have been over it and over it in my head and my heart for 26 years. Where I get stuck is: my intention for placing her for adoption rather than raising her was so that she could have a more solid family, a Mom AND Dad, maybe a sibling or two. Fate had other ideas for her, and that isn't exactly the way it turned out. My arrogance says: "How dare you, God! I loved that child and wanted things to be better, I trusted You to take care of that request and give her the life I specified, one without a lot of troubles and pain, one with parents!" If I humble myself and remember that nothing is really up to ME, if I look at the person she is today because of or in spite of the pain that she has had to go through, I know that her path is one that is good. Maybe she chose it that way before she ever got here, I don't know how all that works.

The bond we share is more than biological now. I can relate to her pain surrounding "Moms" and mothering. I've had to take that step away from grieving what I didn't get and take the step toward giving it to myself. That's what makes me so sad. That all my good intentions didn't make it all 'ok' for her, that she still had to go through hard stuff, and that she has to go through more. I wish my presence in her life was enough to take all that away, that I could wave a magic wand and fix any hurt that she carries around inside her.I feel that way with my other two daughters, so maybe that makes it official. I can't go back and give her what she didn't get, and I'm not sure how or if I can give her what she needs now because I'm not sure what that is. All I can do is love her and let her know that. She is a treasure.

The process continues... slowly, sometimes painfully, but one thing is for certain, it will continue whether I cooperate or not. Thankfully I am not drinking or this would most likely be disasterous.
My hope is that in between the every day hustle and bustle that we can continue to have those moments of honesty and emotion, that my kids feel safe enough to tell me what's in their hearts even if it is painful, and that they continue to grow into the beautiful people that they are. XO