Many of you know the story of my birth mother and father divorcing when I was a child. I’ve have had many years to play the story around in my head because I never heard the whole story from either parent. It was obvious that there was significant pain attached to their life story and family history, and I did not want to add more discomfort or stress to their lives. It was obvious that just my presence was a reminder and difficult enough. I had a good life growing up with my father and his extended family. I did not spend any time with my mother or her family until after I was married. Although I was never told I was loved by my parents, I experienced love from my family.
Lately I have been somewhat consumed by the fact there are no pictures, no history or evidence of me as a child with my mother and father. As you can imagine its had its affect on me. I have often given it thought as I examine the layers and layers of emotions and circumstance. I have played out all the angles in my mind, I have imagined all the possibilities and difficulties leaving me with the only option, forgiveness.
“Blessings on your journey”