She is gone...

The pain of loss is indescribable. The air being taken from your lungs every time you try to breathe, the floor continously falling out from underneath your feet, or even a constant running; being exhausted but never being able to stop.  Perhaps loss is even a combination of those. Loss is the worst fears and worst feelings bundled into one entity and existing in the void in your chest.

I have lost many people in my life.  I have lost family and friends of every make and measure. I have even lost a child. A loss i can compare with no other. And those people were taken from me. Mostly too early, but some in due time.  Life has a cruel way of making sure you never forget what pain feels like; you can never be too happy without that sharp reminder.

Of (almost) all the pain I have had, none hurts as much as the voluntary loss.  Someone choosing to leave me. Someone I chose to be apart of my life. 

Trust doesn't come easy for me. I'll never really hold you closer than an arms length away.  I don't do this by choice but by second nature and self-defense.  This reaction is subconscious and it protects me from more unnecessary pain.  Pain I have suffered enough of.

But the loss, when I do let you inside and you still choose to leave me, is the worst kind of devastating. I can't catch my breath because I no longer I have lungs.  The floor isn't falling, I have fallen onto it and smashed into a million pieces.  I will stop running because the pain has paralyzed me and I cannot move at all.
The emptiness could fill a room.

I lay here imagining my void in a different way. Imagining it with a different ending - one where I am not left alone again.
And the tears stream from my eyes, spattering the pillow beneath my head.
The hollow pit in my stomach churns reminding me not to forget the chasm within.
The waste that was love.
The vacancy that was my heart.

Fellow Earthlings

More often than not I hear people whine about youth.  How they aren't learning all the things they should be, how they are all narcissistic, how they aren't as talented as children in past eras.
It is disappointing to hear these things.

As a parent raising a child in this world, I am less impressed with the world than I am with my daughter who knows nothing, apparently.

When I look at my daughter, I see intellect among beauty. I see kindness, gentleness, and grace.  I see a teenager who doesn't understand why her Facebook is filled with people with loud opinions and hurtful tongues.  I see a child who questions faith and spirituality to the nth degree.  I see a child who has been exposed to the truths of love and life - too young.  I see a girl who says she wants to make an impression and leave her mark doing something meaningful.

Then I see the world.  I see desolation and greed. I see an unending hate that is feeding off of despair and fear and creating even more hate.

And yet, I am trying to raise a child in this world.  A world full of hate.  A world where people who can't even "love thy neighbor" can certainly judge an entire generation of children.

Do you know how hard it is to raise a kind and gentle daughter with the abhorrence that is spewed with every passing moment by nearly everyone we meet?  Do you know how hard it is to raise beauty in a world where her fellow citizens are constantly ugly?  I have been that person, too. I have detested others for their ignorance, but I have also learned.  I have grown past throwing my disgust around with no solution.

My solution is simple: I will live my life for my family with all the love in my heart I always have. I wont live in fear. I won't lessen these standards because the world has changed; I have changed with it after all.  I will live in peace, as hard as that is, and live this life how it should be lived.  I will absorb the bad days and relish in the good days.  I will stand strong against adversity and I will  be resilient against my trepidation. I will understand that some people are born with repulsion coursing through their veins, while others are born with humanity and benevolence.

When my daughter decides that she will take these values with her to college, or to trade school, or to her future family, then I will have succeeded in raising her.

Sure, she will know Common Core math, she will not know how to write in cursive, and she will most likely have her face stuck to her phone screen ninety percent of the time, but she will have value and worth. She will be a contributing member to society.  As far as I am concerned, she already is - and a lot more than some people I know. 

If I raised her to care about her fellow Earthlings, then I'd say its a job well done.
This world is tough. This world is full of complications. This world is a mess.  But it is our world and we have to always care about it.