Dear Beautiful Daughter,
My heart breaks to realize that you are in a place where you don't even feel like you can talk to me. I wonder, is it me or is it God you are running from?
My calls have gone unreturned, my messages unanswered.
Ironic, in a way, that I get fifty calls a week from people needing help, needing encouragement, or just wanting to know someone cares.
Yet when you faced one of the darkest hours of your life, I heard about it from someone else.
I get calls from homes, from hospitals, from the streets, even from jail.
I never condemn.
We are all human, and besides, we all know that I've made my own calls from those same places.
Did you think I'd treat you any differently than I do them?
Don't you know my love for YOU is even greater?
You used to think forgiveness for your transgressions came in the form of free foot rubs.
I never told you (cause I loved the mini massage) but forgiveness was there the moment you messed up.
Why?
Because you are my daughter.
And I love you.
It's as simple as that.
When I look at you, I see a little princess in dress-up clothes, an athlete in uniform, a Monday night junk food-eating tv buddy.
I see your heart. The one who'd rather be hurt than see someone hurt.
I see YOU.
I know you better than anyone.
I also know the road you are traveling down right now.
That's why I had to let you go.
You're an adult. You have to make your own decisions. You're going to have some great times and make some great memories. You're also going to make some big mistakes. But that's okay. Because those mistakes are what will make you a great person.
Of this, I have complete confidence.
I probably wouldn't have even called. After all, it's not letting go if you are still holding on.
But I heard you had some trouble and I wanted to offer support.
For some reason, you've been afraid to receive it.
That's okay, though, because it's still here. It will ALWAYS be here.
Because moms never stop loving. Or caring. Or reaching out.
I love you,
Mom
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