Childhood Revoked...

I was eight- you left on Christmas morning and never came back.  The last day of childhood for me- I know others have been through much worse but that was my pain.  It was the day that I stopped being a little girl and became a watcher.  A watcher of what things were coming next to turn my life upside down.  A watcher of the life I knew disappearing- replaced by emotions and circumstances I had no control over and didn't understand.  I became a seeker of control.  A seeker of what was wrong with me.  A seeker of someone to love me like a father should.  A seeker of some kind of reason this was happening to my eight year old self.

That little girl lives in me still and sometimes it feels like she takes over.  She takes over when I am consumed by fear of what the next thing is that will turn my world upside down.  She takes over when I see pictures of you with your family of choice.  When I see that you are a grandpa- my kids don't have one of those.  The little girl in me screams it's not fair- where the hell were you when I needed a father?  The grown woman in me says forgive- we all make mistakes- I've made some whoppers.

I thought I could reconnect with you and this hole inside of me would be healed somehow.  Then I realized that was a tall order for me and you.  You made the hole but I will make myself whole.  I saw a picture of you-  the man I remembered- tall, brown hair, mustache, glasses, plaid shirt, leather jacket- all those things so very familiar to me even when I hadn't seen them in so long.  It was close to the time you left and cuddled up beside you was the woman you would also hurt- but you would stay with her and there you would find your family.  You moved on- while I cried and prayed for you to come back, while I never felt good enough, while I was scared all the time, and while I felt like it was up to me to make everyone happy again.  The little girl in me screams why, how could you, it isn't fair.

In the depth of my soul I can find understanding and forgiveness.  What I cannot find is anyway to let you back in.  You broke a part of me.  That part is still so fragile and it is my job to make that part whole again. For me that means letting you go to the family you chose- without looking back on all the what if''s and why's.  It means understanding that my childhood may affect me but does not define me.  It means taking care of that little girl and protecting her from any further hurt- finally.