Will you take me even now?
Will you love the new person I’ve become?
I’ve searched high and low for the shadows of who this person was before.
I see the books she used to read, the clothes she used to wear. She was so hopeful, naive leaving this ghost house in tact, assuming that she’d return
I’ve spent the past almost five years mourning my daughter.
But I’ve come full circle and I see her all around me. I planted her, and she grew. Not the experience I hoped for, by a long shot. But our relationship is just that.
My relationships under the golden sun feel very beat on. Worn.
I realize that the persons on the other end haven’t changed much, though staring back at them a person that not even I recognize.
Things have become so comfortably unrecognizable that I’m okay with who this person is now. It once scared me, but it doesn’t anymore.
But I can feel the outside world giving it their very best to get along with the girl they once knew. Connect with her, though she isn’t the same. They no doubt wonder a lot, maybe not at all. Chalking it up to something frivolous.
But she wasn’t frivolous.
She was my daughter, and now that I have a daughter to raise her on this brown earth and under the golden sun, I know.
I know what I’m missing.
The gap rends my heart, but this heart soaks up those tears.
And I drown in so much thankfulness.
My heart bursts, I can barely wrap my mind around how quickly (retrospectively, of course) things got better after they were so, so horrible.
But rising in the aftermath is something I didn’t see coming.
A survivor. War paint is often involved, in paint and charcoal. Dirt from a little boy and smudges of bananas from the most heavenly baby hands. A woman with mostly the same interests, but she isn’t the same.
Will you take this person still?
She misses who she used to be too, but there isn’t a path that leads back. Only forward.
I read once “don’t look back, you’re not going that way”.
How complete. How true. And a little sad.
I can’t change back. I refuse to try anymore. She didn’t die to leave me the way I was. She died, and whether or not I believe it was God-ordained, that changed me in and out and every which way you can possibly imagine. It’s a transformation that took flight the moment her soul flew from this earth.
I entered the last year of my twenties this past weekend and when it finally hit me that day, I was a little sad. A decade ready to be behind me, almost. This decade has been the decade of school days, marriage, babies. It has transformed me in the most excruciating, and at the same time, in the most rewarding ways.
I start this year with a deep breath. Time flies when all you want to do is sit and soak it in. This year feels like one long goodbye to the baby years, the pregnancy days and all that comes with carrying precious new life, a goodbye to so many firsts. I look forward to this next decade – hopefully the one where we get to see them start school, and get to know our littles a lot, lot more. And see them become the beautiful souls they were created to be.
Maybe I’m not supposed to recognize this person I’ve become, maybe it’s an ever-changing transformation. One that I’m not in charge of. One that is divinely orchestrated. One I don’t really have a say in, only prayers that I can someday catch up. I feel like our society is eat up with “finding yourself”. I have to admit I am drawn to soul searching, and exploring these transformations that take place after intense life situations, but I can’t spend my whole life trying to find something. I fear I’ll miss these days – the days that so many testify are the best days of your life. And I am totally convinced.
I’m still getting to know this new me. But this life is about so much more. It’s about pouring yourself into the people in your world. And finding fulfillment in giving pieces of your heart and soul away. It all comes back to you somehow, I truly believe it does.
Until then, I’ll enjoy the ride under this golden sun I’ve come to love on the sunny days and miss on the cloudy ones, so so much.