This past summer changed my life: in many amazing ways, and in a few seemingly awful ways.
My mom said that when we told her to go – to Oregon – it felt like we were kicking her to the curb, too. That broke my heart.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions, though, I suppose.
Standing on the street, moving truck there, bawling. Crying my eyes out, watching all dreams of family lasting forever, normalcy, and happiness, leaving with that U-Haul. For that level of despair I felt so deeply, I can’t even begin to understand or truly empathize with my mom. Curled into the fetal position, heaving, bawling. Knowing now and then that my mom was doing the same, over 1500 miles away.
We will move forward.
The family unit, different, but rekindled. Reborn, despite pain.
I have to be there. Have to do everything in my power to stand with her. Protect and nurture her when she needs it, and help her as she rebuilds her life, rediscovers her purpose. Remind her on a daily basis of her the love that life can bring, and the support that will continue to surround her, unconditionally. I will always be there.
Family is forever, but the definition is flexible.
It just isn’t the white house, groomed lawn, and “perfect” family unit anymore. But I like where I’m at – where we’re at – better now.
Where she leads, I will follow.
A song that used to bring tears for the relationship I thought I’d never have. I now cry out of appreciation for the relationship that I do have, and the love and dedication it brings with it. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“I will go to the ends of the earth, because mama, to me that’s what you’re worth.”