For a purpose

I have said that I will miss you when you leave every day for 5 days straight. It hasn’t been easy. With tears welling up, throat clenching in the resolve that I must truly face my fear and speak my truth. The statement is always followed with the reply:

I know. You’ll figure it out.

You won’t say it but I will believe that you will miss me too. As I shove stupid meaningless items into your pile that only a “hoarder” like me would want to save as a memory of our time. 

This is love by blood. By four years of sisterly support in a way and understanding that is impossible without the roots we share. If roots is what we could even call our past. 

To be so cold and inept at making me feel like I will be missed, I stand here at almost 30 truly embracing what it will be like to be an individual of my own raising my girl. Having less to depend upon me and less for me to depend upon. It is all a terrifying thought.

I feel the spirits surround me. Maternal energy, purple, a mix of grandmother bell and Jolie.

Heal yourself child.

Those are the three words they say. Strep throat followed by bronchitis and I’m 3 days without a cigarette. With bits of cut up nicotine patches that I put on both sides of my body in waves to escape the nausea and nightmares.

They are for a purpose. The nightmares tell me who I am and where my subconscious lie. 

I’ve been in a murder house where my weapon was a sword that was strapped to my chin. I’ve been running through hotels into stairs that cascade into deep water with big black snakes. I’ve seen and done and said things I couldn’t have imagined awake.

For a purpose. 

We face our fear and speak our truth. Regardless of the reaction. Every day.

For a purpose.

We embrace the toughest challenges in order to develop our character.

For a purpose.

We listen to our souls, and recognize when we must do things our own way – in the face of the roughest road. 



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