I have rode the rollar coaster of emotions since she left. Had I published this post shortly after, it would have started with “fuck you all” This is the gift of journaling. I get to work through so many emotions when writing. So let me start by saying in the words of songwriter Horatio Spafford, “It is well with my soul”
Her exit hurt on a level I can’t express. At first, I was so angry. Angry at her. Angry at my landlord. Angry at myself. Angry at life. Why this anger, I had to ask myself. I think so much of it I felt powerless to. I am not good at not being in control. God knows this about me, so He gives me lots of opportunities to practice letting go. This was just another one of those wonderful opportunities…gah! My therapist said, “Back out, let her live her life” Wise words, I needed to hear.
There were moments of wrestling with self-doubt, questioning if I had somehow failed. Logically, I know better. I mean, really, I have two other daughters who book end her in birth order who are well-adjusted functioning wonderful adults. History has repeated itself over and over with her. She moves on to the next person, who’s “so much better than I am,” and yet that always ends disastrously. The common denominator is always her, yet she blames us (or a boyfriend or the last person she lived with, etc.). I will continue to pray that someday this pattern is interrupted.
I know that I did the very best I could to help her. I loved on her, opened my heart, and home to her. I advocated for her. A few months ago, I wrote about the haunting nights worrying about her, wondering where she is and how she’s doing. Those disturbing thoughts have dissipated. They will likely never go completely away, but I have much more peace than before.
I knew better than to allow myself into that magical thinking. So many of you waited patiently as I dipped my toe back in that water. You’ve been there, and you’ve done this, and you knew the end. Yet you didn’t judge me. And you patiently waited to throw me a life line when the storm blew in. I needed to do this, though. I needed to try. I am so thankful for the chance to have her in my life for a bit. Thankful for the lessons learned, for the gift of seeing life through a very different lens.
Still, I find myself vacillating between bewilderment and anger. How could my dear sweet daughters’ life turn out like this? Will it end like this? Only she can change this. Why won’t she do it?!
For a bit I was so completely drained. Empty. I am working on putting the pieces of my life back together. Finding it super challenging. I can’t run away the hurt, I can’t bike it away. I can’t distract myself with friends enough to make it go away. Fellowship truthfully is a double-edged sword. It requires me to be somewhat human, which feels draining as well. I can’t meditate it away, but I try. I feel certain I could drink it away, but probably shouldn’t try as that hasn’t worked in the past. So I’ve tried eating it away, that hasn’t worked either. Although tacos are magical.
Parenting is hard, parenting a prodigal child is downright brutal. I have learned there are no road maps, and no two paths are identical. I have met parents on various parts of the journey. Some came to letting go way sooner than others. Some just can’t (at least not yet). A few have had happy endings, many have not. We all are doing the best we can, and we all see each others heartache. It’s not a group I would have wanted to join, but I have to say the people in this group are the most genuine beautiful people I’ve met.
Do not cast pearls to swine. I will temper my actions to no longer give her what she doesn’t appreciate, yet we will open our arms when the prodigal child returns. When she truly has a repentant heart. I noticed when I read the story about the prodigal child that the father came running down the driveway in his robe. He wasn’t wearing the clothes of a man mourning. It doesn’t say, but I’m sure he had moments when he cried out to God. Overall, it seems he lived his life and let his son live his. His son came when he was ready and was a changed man.
One day at a time, moment by moment, the brokenness feels less intense. The sunny days get brighter, and the hurtful memories fade. I lean into letting go, to moving forward.
As I live, I find out what helps in life and what hurts. The anger has subsided, sadness is lifting, and I am feeling hopeful and optimistic about life again. Turns out time helps, taking care of myself does help.
As I said in the past, my daughter was always only mine on loan from God. He can and will fill her every need if she reaches out to Him. In the meantime, I will carry on. I will always pray for her and hold a space in my heart for her. I will not let her be a cancer that infects the rest of life and my beautiful family.
“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33
I wish I could say I am on the other side of this, but I think I never will be. For me, the fellowship of other parents experiencing similar arcs has been most beneficial. Truly, only someone who has experienced this gets it. Don’t be afraid to share your story. And it IS your story. It is how you are affected, how you feel, how you try, and it’s a wound that never stops bleeding. Your child has their story, and that is for them to tell. However, when your life starts to become affected by their choices , it is now also your story. When you pay thousands of dollars for your kid to go to college and they work hard and become a doctor, you are positively impacted and share it for all social media to see, this is somehow ok. Yet when your kid goes to jail and you pay to get them out, we are shamed for sharing our story because it might make them look bad. Well, I say, “Stop doing stupid shit then!” It’s now as much my story as yours. I get to speak of how this is impacting me. I get to share openly and honestly how this hurts like hell, and I feel lost and confused. Because you know what? Somebody else is going through the same thing, and they need to know they are not alone. The devil wants you to think you are the only one. He wants you stuck in your shame and fear. There is healing in community. Jesus created community. God said it is not good for man to be alone. So, if you are struggling with any challenge, know that you are not alone. I am here if you need to talk.
I suspect I will not hear from her for awhile again. There will be a quiet season. The low hum in the background will always be there. For now I take what I have learned in this season and help where I can. You are not alone, we are not alone no matter what we are going through.
findingkympossible 