Sunday, April 30, 2017


I sat across from you today. Sunshine streamed down, a breeze caressed your blond hair, your smile soft, unsure.

Your text, the night before, surprised me. You gave me your new number. You didn't have to, but there it was. An invitation to communicate.

A new phone, a new job, a new family. Your boyfriend and his parents take good care of you. New clothes and a sparkly new drivers permit.

There you are, taking care of your own business. Your anxiety controlled. A fact the new growth of your finger tells.

You are better...without me.

I wish I'd been wiser and let you go when you were squirming for your freedom. Would it be different now?

I pray for you. I pray for protection, for wisdom. I pray for our relationship.

I'm so proud of you. I hope that's okay. To be proud in a parent kind of way.

I can't wait to see you again.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Word on the Street

Things aren't going well for you.

We heard you've moved out of your friends house. It didn't end well. The word is, you've moved in with your boyfriend's family. You're spiraling out of control, sick all the time. Your coach said you were a mess....

Oh baby

I wish I could scoop you up and carry you home. Give you a shower and a bowl of ice cream.

I wish I could help you to see other options.

I wish I could heal your brokenness.

I don't know what to do. I've emailed you, but you don't respond. Your sister isn't helpful.

So, day after day, I wonder and pray. I worry about how far you'll have to fall and if you do fall, will you be able to get back up.

I want to remind you that you have healthcare and it's just a call away. I long to tell you that I do love you. I do. Through the yelling and the anger and the frustration, I love you.

There's still time, I know there is. We could come up with a plan, get you back on track, get you to your therapist & your doctor.

The future is still yours and there are so many people who would be willing to help you get there. Don't give up.

Don't ever give up.

Monday, April 3, 2017


I saw you yesterday. We had arranged for you to spend some time with your sister. She needed it more than you.

You were all sassy with your new gauges. You, who look about 12 years old, trying to look bad ass. It's your thing. Whatever.

The only disturbing thing about seeing you was seeing your bruises. Why? Why was your arm covered in bruises shaped like a hand and fingers? Why was there a bruise on your neck. What are you doing?

I didn't ask. Its clearly none of my business, but I can't help but wonder.

Your sister has been strangely quiet. What did you say? The mall was probably a bad idea. Time alone, just the two of you. God, I'm an idiot.

I don't know what to do with you. There is no best place to put you and I. We don't fit. Its a push and a pull. Your sister is in the middle. How do we avoid destroying her, while we try to figure out us?

My friends say, you shouldn't have contact with her. That doesn't seem right and we both know you would sneak around and see her anyway.

What do I do with you?