E

  Running on Empty, Running Blind, Don't Know What To Do, I Am Running Behind - Jackson Browne...Those were the days.
     In a world of complete chaos a little girl learned how to remain completely in control. Children are amazing. With her painted on face, crooked tooth smile, and her eyes - now blue, or gray, or green - twinkling as if she knew a secret no one else knew. In mere seconds she could take a room's temperature -- adjust, adapt. She wore whatever hat was needed. In her go bag she kept a first aid kit, a fire extinguisher, a pair of strong shoulders, a quick wit, an abundance of love.
     Where did she learn to do so many things? Where did she learn to hope? Where did she learn to love? I miss her.
     Flexible, my goodness she could be any shape you needed. Any size you wanted. Any color you desired. If you sought quiet she gave you that. How did she learn so much at such a young age?
     It is a question society often asks - how two people exposed to the same environment develop opposing coping skills? Darwinism? Survival of the fittest. God - giving each skills to get through.
     You can lay no blame for what any of us do to survive or to grieve. There is no right or wrong here. We do the best with what skills we have. We use tools from our toolbox.
     That little girl with dirty Blondie hair, fair chubby cheeks, and a heart so large - inside she felt dirty, rotten, broken. She did not let it show. Covering cracks with cracks of humor. Look at her tapestry - so many rips, tears, missed stitches yet so deep and rich in hue, torn but not torn apart. It gives you a sense of hope. Oh, can you see it? The torn parts, the missing parts if you don't look at them, if you look at its entirety you can see a butterfly. It is beautiful. I miss her. I admire her.
     Fast as that river was running she was faster. Come on you had to love her - the her she let you see. So young yet so capable. Kept hidden the dirty, rotten girl inside.
     Today I write to you from an empty place. Over the past 12 days I have purged, cleaned, touched, scoured, examined - without sleep or peace I have looked at it all. This is not a bad thing. I believe I could sleep for a few days.
     I know who loves me for my character, my heart and those who loved me only for my service to them. I learned who judged my behavior, not my intentions. I learned we are all broken in some way. On our common journey we have all taken our share of bumps and bruises, stumbled, been fallible.
     I have apologized. Now I must learn to forgive myself. Cleaned, ironed and folded - still incomplete - my young woman tapestry is put away. Yes, set aside before completion - I have to adapt and adjust. Certainly it makes me sad. I hoped it would be more grand. There it is with its tears, missed stitches, smaller than it should be. Yet the colors, depth, richness - they are also visible. Look at what is there not what is missing. You will see a little girl with her painted on face, an impish grin, twinkle in her eyes, heart open wide. Sleep well my child. I miss you.
     Oh, goodness we cannot be sad. This is life. It cannot always be perfect or pretty. Muscles only develop when they are used. Your brain, your heart they are muscles - they need use.
     I begin my third, and final tapestry. I don't know, when finished, what we will have. I am hopeful it will be full of color, diversity, stitched closely and tightly, big as the moon!
     I do pray, when the day comes, as it is ironed and put away - when you look at it - you will see an impish grin, twinkling eyes, and a heart open wide.