over a year...

It is been over a year since our world fell apart during that humid and frightening summer. Many things have changed and we still struggle but let's just say it is better in many ways.  She does the things she has to but without the joy and happiness and peace I would wish for her.  I see her as always divided, pulled in many directions.  I don't think she can grow in that scenario.  And then there is me...always offering advice and counsel, wanted or not. Do I push too hard...out of fear?  The path she so tentatively travels on now seems fraught with danger and disaster.  But it is her path. And who am I to try and deter her from it.  But I have seen things ... that I feel I must save her from...

But most of all there is Tiny Owl...the wisest of us all...but still vulnerable despite her brave front. What does she need from me?  I know she needs her and to know she loves her more than any other but she doesn't feel that yet. How could she? And is she expected to pay for the sins of the past by enduring more pain?

So I have had severe flashbacks to the horrors of last summer, so has Tiny Owl. I guess it is inevitable as it has been a year and we inhabit the same spots we did before. Each one wrapped with a memory as painful as a knife slid into the heart.  I will always feel shame and regret for some of my reactions. I can only justify them by knowing I was clamoring to save her life...but does the end justify the means? Sometimes, I was gentle, understanding, accommodating while other times the emotions took over and I said and did things that I can't fix.

But there was a bittersweet memory that floated in one night  for which I am grateful.  It was just the two of us, not sure where Tiny Owl was that night. She wasn't like herself at all yet but had a sweetness that touched me deeply.  She was still rushing about trying to find refuge from the deluge inside her but her actions were different this night. We played silly board games and laughed together. She painted my nails. She stood outside the shower to make sure I wouldn't fall (Mom-om) and held me when I climbed on a stool to take a picture.  When I fell asleep she painted my toenails, paint everywhere but it didn't matter.  She was reaching out to me in the only way she could that night.  I grasp for the good as often as I can and can only hope for the future.  I search for balance in how to approach her with my fears...balance, something that doesn't come easy for me. But in my tilted, skewed way I will offer what I can...