Courtney - posted on 08/30/2016 ( no moms have responded yet )




We Always Have a Choice
An intermittent five years of false hopes, broken hearts and promises never fulfilled. This is where we started, back then…. I was still hopeful.
Ten years of your absence has followed. Ten years, a decade. It can go by in an instant. Yet, when looking back, it holds an entire childhood.
You missed it. You missed it all.
I wanted to be angry. For a while, I was. I let myself be, as a fuel for my strength. I wanted to scream, to cry, and retaliate. I held my tongue, and the tears fell silently behind closed doors. I needed to be strong for her, our daughter.
I realize now that you didn’t deserve any of the energy. The anger wasn’t at you. It was manifested as such, but really was my frustration of having no answers for our little girl when she wanted to know why you stopped calling. Why you stopped asking to see her for visits. When she questioned what she had done so wrong that you didn’t want to see her. She thought she was the reason!
I hated you.
I hated that your actions caused so much pain for her. You had no right to inflict such an injustice on a child, your own child.
Fast forward to today.
Today, I’m smiling. She’s smiling. No more will our eyes shed tears on your behalf.
I have had the sheer amazement of watching her first steps, hearing her first words, teaching her to tie her shoes, ride a bike, and swim. How to write, to read, to draw, to skate, to snowboard and proudly raised her fluently bilingual.
I’ve cuddled with her in blanket forts or under the covers of her bed reading countless bedtime stories, having tickle fights and giggling until the idea of bedtime was almost a passing thought. Yet, could always manage a lullaby to calm the giggles and have her fall asleep smiling.
We’ve travelled, camped, explored. We’ve been to museums, art galleries, aquariums and purposely gotten lost to create a new adventure and find our way home.
She’s experienced the celebration of birth, and the mourning of death. She’s been shown the world outside the asphalt jungle and has developed an appreciation and respect for the Earth and the wonders it offers.
She creates with an artistic gift and ability that goes far beyond her years. Her athleticism is of the same tier and she is highly respected and viewed as a high caliber goalie for the provincial level in an age group that is two years her elders.
Medal after medal she has won and achieved for her talents throughout the years, and I have proudly watched the growth in her as a young woman and her abilities.
She is no longer the little girl you walked away from.
She has a fierce silent strength within her that is nothing short of admirable. It is her drive, and it is a force to be reckoned with.
She has grown into a beautiful, bright, articulate, and fiercely talented young lady.
My place has been proudly in the shadows of her wings, close enough for guidance and help should she fall, yet far enough away to give her the space she required to grow.
She has learned early on the true value of a dollar and works very hard for her goals. She is acutely aware that this world owes her nothing but she can achieve anything with enough hard work, passion and determination. I’ve been blessed to watch her blossom into this amazing young lady and am so grateful that this journey of hers was shared with me. I feared long ago that she would be lacking something in your absence. I was so very wrong.
She has always had an outpouring of love, and support from friends and family all over. Your absence wasn’t on the forefront of our lives as a handicap. We instead grew stronger from it.
A childhood of laughter, wonder, creation, learning, a whole childhood is what you chose to walk away from. Those days can never be had again. They are irreplaceable. You only get one shot at it.
So when you decided to ‘like’ my social network page after ten years of absence, a part of me froze. I went through a minor panic attack and once again wanted to cry, scram and retaliate when the questions came back like a flash flood in the middle of a drought.
But I stopped. I took some time to look back on the past decade and smiled. The last 10 years is our story.
You chose to walk away. You missed it all. Every last bit.
I received a blessing in disguise. From heartbreak, bore new beginnings. I was blessed to have watched the miracle and wonder of a child growing up to be the lady she is today.
The memories belong to her and I. Untouched and unscarred. The bond we share grew too, stronger than any I have ever known. Our love and respect for one another is the very roots of which our family has grown.
I cannot pity you, the choice was yours. Whatever drove you to resurface again, I do not know. Nor do I care.
I know I have done everything within my power to provide a healthy, happy and loving upbringing for her to grow and thrive in. There are no regrets from me where she is concerned. The loss is yours and yours alone to carry through this life.
So on this tenth year anniversary of your absence, I am standing up, taking a step, and letting go.
I am letting go of the hate, the anger, the frustrations, the tears. You deserve none of it.
I however, deserve to be free. She deserves answers, but that is not my battle to fight.
Our lives will not be altered by your games of hide and seek. If you want to know anything about us, know that we are doing perfectly fine.
Ten years ago you chose to walk away from the most amazing lady I know.
Ten years ago, she and I started the first day of the rest of our lives.
I was handed a childhood; to nourish, to grow and to protect.
You… well; I’m not sure what you gained.
We always have a choice.

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