Home...The Other One I

By the time we all got home, unpacked and climbed into bed I already had three calls about my father. I've developed a sensitivity over the past couple of years since we opened or marriage, some things in my thinking have shifted and changed forever. I've learned to let go, knowing I have not always made the best decisions, knowing I have caused pain, lied and gossiped...and I know the road to forgiveness can either be blocked, riddled with obstacles or an open road...I want mine to remain open. Every moment can be a learning opportunity and this is mine, this is where I show myself, my children and my father what I am made of. Life's funny, it has a very poetic way of showing you everything you don't want to be or everything you desire to be in someone else...you just have to be aware enough to see it. I could hold a grudge, let him suffer alone and never turn around and know that I am justified because we have history and shared DNA isn't always enough to trump the pain...but what about the pain I have caused? I don't forgive him in the hopes it is offered to me on my death bed, I forgive him because that is the type of woman I have always wanted to be and when better to start. Now, I gave up grudges long ago, let go of garbage, let go of negative friends and family and walked right into my life. My father dying in front of my eyes has taught me more than anything else and has helped me become a better mother...maybe I owe him.

I drifted off holding my daughters hand and trying to make a mental note to get on a flight this week and head home...