Doe-a-Deerers

I can not stop giggling at this so I figured I needed to write it out. This story simply can not be forgotten.

(Have the Sound of Music in the back of your mind.)
Ella was flying with her dad to Texas and had a layover in Denver last week. My mom was able to get a pass and go see her when she got off the plane and as Ella was exiting the plane she saw some nuns. In her sweet little mind this is what transpired:

"Momo, Momo(what she calls my mom)- the doe-a-deerers- they're real. They're real in this life."

I mean really- how can one not giggle forever about this.

A Smile

For some reason today I just have a smile. Honestly there isn't a reason for it- just smiling.

Truth

The truth continues to seep out. Today my family discovered the 'real' truth- my father has stolen nearly every penny of his mother's and sisters inheritance money.

Can life get much worse? I'm so scared right now.

I would like to title this post "The Coward Strikes Again" but I will refrain.

My dad drew up divorce papers from the internet, signed them, filed them in the courts, and had my mom served today. There is half of me that busts out laughing. Really? I mean...really? Internet papers? Gosh how nice of you.

I long for my mom to be free of him. I long for my mom to come alive again and know how very much she is loved despite every action that comes from this man.

Someone I didn't know asked me the other day about my family:

"Where does your family live?"
"My mom and brother live in different cities in CO."
"My sister and niece live in WA."
"Where is your dad?"
"I don't have one."

Sad. Even more sad that it didn't hurt my heart at all to say that I didn't have one. I don't know if it is easier to tell myself that I don't have a father or to acknowledge that I am estranged from him. As I move through this process I pray my heart will soften enough- at least to acknowledge that I do still have a biological father.

I look back over the last year and wonder how in the world all of this has taken place. What a ginormous change a year makes. Please dear God- make this next year a little easier- please.

It's amazing sometimes when you let out your real thoughts and feelings and scream, yell, cry, laugh, etc- but that moment that everything is out- you find a peace that transcends all understanding.

My last post I let a little bit out- okay a lot. And now I am a little calmer, and quiet, and more at rest. As I struggle through all of this mess and the hard thoughts that cross my mind, I just know deep down- God is doing something big. And more importantly- I am loved by HIM.

Hate

It's a word I was never allowed to use growing up. We could never say we 'hated' something. I know it's a strong word and I know it brings up so many feelings and emotions with it. I don't use it very often but when I do I truly mean it.

I HATE my father. And I mean every word, syllable, connotation, infliction, etc. behind it.

I am aware that it is a problem- that I have some serious anger issues brewing inside of me. And he is most likely lucky that we are no where near each other- because he most definitley would not want to be anywhere near me. Somewhere down deep I get scared that this feeling will never subside or ever go away. That I will hate him until my last dying breathe for the failure of a man that he is.

These are the days that I can not find an ounce of grace for him- not a drop.

There are moments I shake my head thinking this is all a really bad dream- that my family is like every other normal family out there. What used to be summer vacation at home, grilling salmon out back, sitting around drinking margaritas, laughing and talking, playing Texas hold'em, etc- it isn't there anymore- and never will be. Is this really happening at 32? Can your heart really hurt this much?

I wondered today if things will ever end. Will there be a moment where I will know that it is all over? That moment where you can just sit down and feel- deep down- that things will get better from that point on. I really hope so. I remember a day about 9 months ago that I had hit the very bottom. I curled up in the bottom of my shower and let the water pour over me for what felt like hours. I just let the water wash over me and I let everything go- crying until there was nothing left of me. I pulled myself up and knew at that moment that I was at the bottom- and the only place to go was up. I didn't think that feeling was ever going to come back again- something inside says I could be wrong. Rock bottom can't be that far off for what used to be my family.

Trusting God in all of this is the hardest stuff I have ever done. I know he'll forgive me for the amount of times a day that I doubt Him. How can you not when your world has been shattered? But then I think about walking away from Him and I can't even fathom it- I'd much rather curl up in His arms and wonder if He'll ever come through then walk away from what I do know. I still wonder about that watermark- will I ever get to lean in to the beauty of the next season of life?