Hearing the ding of emails coming in, taking a breath, a sigh of relief calms me knowing that any emails coming from the culprits of those in the so called origin family will be diverted to junk mail.
I’ll never see them or know emails are there unless I look. And mostly there won’t be any. No one interacts much unless wanting something, which is rare. But it’s a necessary step right now to feel safe, find my freedom again, and be at peace.
The emails come from friends, those few that are real family, trusted and supportive in a honest way, not in ways that serve only them. And in they come, reliable, loving, and filling the ragged holes that the origin family ravaged with their fake interest and hollow words.
Friends, the family made after years of work, commenting on the video and photos of my 8 year old grand-daughter in a huge dance competition where she recently took first place among all the area dance studio’s participants.
Oh to see her whole, loving, and complete, the age when I was first attacked. An age where the longing for ballet classes was not to be because food used to survive the traumas put too many pounds on to my little kid frame.
She’s a winner to us regardless of any wins, her grace and beauty overflowing. Tears fill my eyes while watching, and joy sent sparklers of shivers down my legs to my toes….
Each lap brought more comfort, the honeysuckle bushes in their full splendor, the scent filling me up at each passing. The lilacs also owning their space, emitting a bouquet of loveliness almost intoxicating. The earth so dry the clay cracks, the warmth of each day increasing as summer approaches.
My flip-flops becoming moist in the early morning before the dew dries. Rest at the creek continues to bring surprises; the heron gracefully floating by to find another fishing spot, an oriole singing its specific melody, her bright orange mingling with the coral pink quince blossoms as it jumps from the flower to the feeder.
The meadow erupts with buttercups, soon daisies will gather with them. The beauty of spring overwhelming in its bounty of colors, songs, and scents, giving way to summer with all her secrets exposed. Traumas early on cracked my soul from body, spirit from flesh. The decades passed living split has opened up to wholeness where the core integrated with all other parts…