She has her back to me. She is telling the children a sort of fable–if fables started if instead of once upon a time.;. And if the princess were a royal pain in the….well, you get the idea.
So Princess is unravelling a story. What if we had no mom or dad, no one to tell us what to do… Her voice conveys the magic of this scenario. Thanks to public assistance she has now had a few years to live the dream, and I will not venture to comment on how that has worked out for her.
It is her life.
And I was once just a random woman willing to wipe her…oh, you, get the idea again.
You could look at the things she has lost playing out her orphaned-with-cash fantasy. But that does not matter as much to me as this—
This world is God’s house and we may presume he has just run to the store for grapes. But I would not be so foolish as to underestimate Him. He owns this house and will return to clean it.
You can live your whole life without a mother and somehow muddle through. But to stake your forever on the dream of autonomy is risky precisely because you may just get exactly what you wanted…
A friend asked me, do you put the kids to bed and at least get five minutes to yourself? No, I say, not really but I like them all…
Hours later I realize how strange that must sound, how incomplete. What I see in my head is thirteen years of eidetic episodes of unlikable events–bullying, tantrums, swearing, violent protracted rages, physical assaults, homicidal imaginary friends, routine larceny, and lies, cursing of the most egregious kind. Some stories so awful I do not want to write about the hurt. And all of this before the years of C’s sexual felonies were dragged to light.
Most sane and normal people would have known better, right? We believed if we did not give up on m and c they would be good, or at least better because of love. Because of Love.
Jesus said, greater love has no man than he lays down his life for his friend.
Somethings are easier than others to lay down, I say beneath the shadow of the Cross.
Those 13 years took things that did not belong to me from the most precious people I know. To say I like my children is an understatement.