healing

His head  hung down as he walked away from me.  In silence he climbed back in to his truck,  keeping his eyes from meeting mine, but still looking  back at where I stood alone.  I watched as he slowly backed out of  my drive way.  I had nothing but apathy for the the man.  He had fallen so low, to a place I could only try to imagine was like.  A place that seemed so empty and void of all that held beauty and truth.  A place where he could only blame himself for falling into. A place where love seemed lost.

I had moved on and I could see he struggled with accepting that. Somehow in his heart he held on to  hope.  Hope  that we would somehow once again   reunite in this journey.  It was in that moment I realized   all the anger I had held in my heart from  the years past  had melted away.  I had nothing left inside to offer him accept, pity and sorrow.  Sorrow because he now   understood what he had walked away from years ago.  Pity because I knew he would never be enough for me or his sons ever again.  The love he so unwillingly refused to give back years ago, now tore at him.  The faith he had lacked then had put him in the lonely place he was now. What he wanted most right now was the furthest from him, than  it had ever been, with no hopes of ever being regained again.

I turned to walk back inside my house.  The house I had manged to save for and buy myself.  The house I had had  adapted to meet the special physical  needs of my sons.  The house through sacrifice and hard work I had turned into a home for my three sons and I.  There was no presence of him in my personal world. I smiled looking at the photos decorating my walls that clearly  displayed  me and my sons and the triumphs we shared together.  I had made a place for us in this world on my own, that left me free and in control.  My home now beamed of  the world I created and shared with my three beautiful sons.  The path we had been traveling on for 9 years had  brought challenge but also great reward.  I was pleased with what I had accomplished on my own and embraced the strength that had grown with in me, facing all the  hurdles of single parenting  and especially raising two physically and mentally challenged sons by myself. We were together, my sons and I, and nothing could make me  feel more proud.  I had managed to give my sons a world that dared them to dream, that rewarded them for their efforts, above all that showered them with unconditional love.

Even though I felt even more free, now that I had finally let go of the hurt from my past, it did though feel strange and new.  The dreams I had once believed in and had hoped would be my destiny at one time were now replaced, by new ideas and desires.  The past  buried, as if it had never existed.  As my world changed  I changed with it, in so many ways.    I stopped in front  of the mirror  and glanced at my reflection. I looked the same, perhaps even better, but I had in fact  changed inside  so much, over the years.  At times it even scared me,  knowing how much I was willing to challenge myself  and willing to sacrifice to give my boys the life I longed for them, on this journey.

I can not say that my life has worked out even close to the way I imagined it would.  Even now to day, I am most of the time surprised at the places I am led to and the adventures I embark on with my sons. What ever the journey I can only pray I will be blessed with the strength to be all that my sons will need.