Where do I begin….
I have spent the last two weeks working, Working and thinking and trying to figure out if I’m doing the right thing. And trying to convince myself that my job matters, that it’s worth it, that anyone really cares if these things get done or not. Trying to make this stuff matter, knowing that there is so much that matters more.
This is the story of a girl….a fragile, yet strong girl who came fighting into this life, who I have watched grow and blossom and shoulder too much, far too much for her age. I have dried her tears every time she has had to leave me, I have rejoiced in her innocence, her smile, her laughter, I have had my heart broken by her sad, sad eyes at times. What do you do when faced with a choice to try to help the hopeless or save the innocent? What is the right thing to do when you are trashed and attacked for the umpteenth time in this vicious cycle of mental torture, and you have a chance to save at least one of the victims. At least one.
The choice is clear. I know now that I cannot save the attacker. That ship has sailed, it’s beyond my power as matriarch, mother or friend to do anything to change it. But the child who is no longer a child, the innocent victim who longs only for a normal happy life after too many years of conflict, too many years of carrying the responsibilities that never should have been hers. She is the victim in this, she needs us, needs shelter and protection and unconditional love. And so we have spent the last two weeks doing just that. Discussing her future, college. We took her out east to the farm stands, to lunch, took her to her first concert, we let her be who she is. This beautiful young lady who still loves Disney, yet watches NCIS and Law and Order. We crammed all of the unconditional love and
support and encouragement we possibly could in to these
days with her, and tried to teach her to rise above the adversity, rise above
the attacks, walk away from the toxicity and never, never let it destroy
her. In all of the insecurity and
confusion, I can only hope that we have become an island of serenity and
security for her, a safe place where we will not tolerate anyone hurting her
like that ever again, where we can do our best to fade the memory of the cruel
words and names that were hurled at her out of anger, out of jealousy, out of
rage. That we can be here for her always
to come home to, always to count on, always to trust not to use or abuse her,
not to steal from her or con her, but to be her family, because that’s what we
are. Unconditionally accepting, loving, supporting this beautiful girl, and
helping her to grow into the best young lady that she can be.
I know I made the right decision, it’s what my parents would have done. In
different ways, in a different time, it’s what they did. Stepping in when I faltered, when I was
unsure, offering security where I was unsure.
I have spent the last two weeks working, Working and thinking and trying to figure out if I’m doing the right thing. And trying to convince myself that my job matters, that it’s worth it, that anyone really cares if these things get done or not. Trying to make this stuff matter, knowing that there is so much that matters more.
This is the story of a girl….a fragile, yet strong girl who came fighting into this life, who I have watched grow and blossom and shoulder too much, far too much for her age. I have dried her tears every time she has had to leave me, I have rejoiced in her innocence, her smile, her laughter, I have had my heart broken by her sad, sad eyes at times. What do you do when faced with a choice to try to help the hopeless or save the innocent? What is the right thing to do when you are trashed and attacked for the umpteenth time in this vicious cycle of mental torture, and you have a chance to save at least one of the victims. At least one.
The choice is clear. I know now that I cannot save the attacker. That ship has sailed, it’s beyond my power as matriarch, mother or friend to do anything to change it. But the child who is no longer a child, the innocent victim who longs only for a normal happy life after too many years of conflict, too many years of carrying the responsibilities that never should have been hers. She is the victim in this, she needs us, needs shelter and protection and unconditional love. And so we have spent the last two weeks doing just that. Discussing her future, college. We took her out east to the farm stands, to lunch, took her to her first concert, we let her be who she is. This beautiful young lady who still loves Disney, yet watches NCIS and Law and Order. We crammed all of the unconditional love and
support and encouragement we possibly could in to these
days with her, and tried to teach her to rise above the adversity, rise above
the attacks, walk away from the toxicity and never, never let it destroy
her. In all of the insecurity and
confusion, I can only hope that we have become an island of serenity and
security for her, a safe place where we will not tolerate anyone hurting her
like that ever again, where we can do our best to fade the memory of the cruel
words and names that were hurled at her out of anger, out of jealousy, out of
rage. That we can be here for her always
to come home to, always to count on, always to trust not to use or abuse her,
not to steal from her or con her, but to be her family, because that’s what we
are. Unconditionally accepting, loving, supporting this beautiful girl, and
helping her to grow into the best young lady that she can be.
I know I made the right decision, it’s what my parents would have done. In
different ways, in a different time, it’s what they did. Stepping in when I faltered, when I was
unsure, offering security where I was unsure. 
