We’re at a time of year that has historically been difficult for me. That is, I think my estranged daughter will be in town for the summer. I’ve already had a few instances of wondering if I’d just bumped into her in public, even as recently as this morning.
I think I’m better prepared this year to not ruminate, indulge old conversations in my head or give in to desperation. PLACE has been no small part of that, and I’m grateful to you all.
We’re nearly 3 years into this, and my memories are in photos and videos. Social media remind me of happy times such as family events, concerts, vacations, etc.
These years apart bring a new player: uncertainty.
In this instance, it’s uncertainty about whether I’d recognize my child. I knew her as an amazing, forthright young woman with auburn hair, Asian eyes and the charisma to light up a room.
We talk about this uncertainty in group sometimes. I understand the temptation to pore through the EAC’s social media, if possible, to have any morsel of information. How do they look? Are they happy? What are they up to?
Are they ok?
For all the shortcomings in my approach to coping, I can at least say that I have not once succumbed to that temptation. I don’t say this as some humble brag, some opportunity to casually imply that I have steel will.
The truth is that I’ve not succumbed because I know it will come with a predictable, negative emotional outcome. I don’t look because I doubt my ability to cope with what I see. The dreams about her, which I’ve had even as recently as this week, can be difficult enough.
One lesson recurs as I work every day to cope with estrangement: There is no substitute for time. Even as time blurs the detail of my memory, sadly, it also enables me to get through more days between setbacks.
And through it all, I take the opportunity to remember who I am in spite of it all. I don’t have the magic to cure what ails you, but I do implore you to remember your worth.
