The Talk...

So why is it I don’t get to decide when these topics should be discussed.. they just come up… unplanned… unscripted… no time to prepare…

Today I pick up the My Daughters, we are in a rush to get home, do chores, eat dinner and get back out the door for PTA Math night… My oldest is sitting in the back seat and says, “Mama…when we get home, can I talk to you? Alone?” I answer, “yeah – yeah – just get your chores done first then we will talk.”

I’m in my bedroom changing clothes after a hard day at work when I hear tap tap on the door. I realize I forgot that we needed “to talk”… I tell her to come on in and the conversation goes something like this…

My Daughter: Mama…? (looking really scared… I mean freaked out scared…)

L O N G P A U S E….

Me: What?!

My Daughter: (sniffling…) I think I have breast cancer!

I am STUNNED!! – and a thousand thoughts running thru my head… What did she just say? How does she even know about Breast Cancer? Could she have breast cancer? Coming to my senses I say…

Me: What? Why do you think you have breast cancer honey?

Daughter: Because I have a knot on my boob.

Me: Where exactly?

Daughter: Right here. (point smack dab to the center of her boob).

Me: Oh, honey it’s okay… I’m sure it’s not breast cancer… let me look at it.

Daughter: It hurts.

I notice a little bump… a little misquito bite sized bump starting to form under her well.. you know what.

Me: Honey, you are starting to grow boobies.

Daughter: Huh? But it hurts!!!

Me: Yeah… it does sometimes.

Daughter: But I thought it wouldn’t hurt… like it doesn’t hurt when I grow taller… I figured they would just grow…

Me: Nope… sometimes it hurts a little.

Then she had lots of questions on why it was only one sided…?? would the other side catch up ??…. Is one always bigger than the other…?? Is that why there are padded bras to make up the difference??

Y O U G E T T H E I D E A!

Finally, I decided I better ask her some questions of my own… I needed to find out just how close she is on some other things so I know if I need to start doubling up on my purchasing of tampons or not…

Me: So, er.. ek hum... did you ever check to see if you have hair growing anywhere?

Daughter: Yeah.

Me: And??? (I’m dying here… help me out a little girly okay!!!!)

Daughter: (hiding a grimace grin…) it’s fuzzy & soft!!!

OMG! WHERE IS THE VINO! Mama needs a Merlot! That one put me RIGHT over the edge!!!

Divorce Recovery: Take Two

Two down doesn’t look so good on a resume… So at what point do you stop – and wonder what happened? At what point do you realize what it will take to not make the same mistakes again? At what point do you truly understand what recovery means?
Webster defines “recover” as:
1. to get back or regain (something lost or taken away).
2. to make up for or make good (loss, damage, etc., to oneself).
3. to regain the strength, composure, balance, or the like, of (oneself).


Why is it that we feel we must join a group, go to therapy, find some outlet to heal ourselves? It all begins inside – way deep in the core of whom we are truly designed to be. We are all unique – no two souls alike, so how can one cookie cutter therapy class work for all people?

It must begin within you.

That is where you learn to recover, to regain your strength, and find who you truly are. However, it is a place most of us don’t want to go. We all have demons. We all have skeletons. If you think you don’t, you are a liar; and most of all, you are lying to yourself and robbing your own self of a promising future, of a road to true contentment and satisfaction.
It takes courage to look deep within yourself with a critical microscope. Frankly, it is something I have avoided for most of my life. I don’t want to be reminded of the flaws, the failures, the mistakes and misguided attempts to lead ‘the good life’. However, it must be done. Only by doing this have I been able to truly recover.

One failed marriage landed me in the arms of another failed marriage. Had I only taken the time to truly evaluate myself, my needs, my wants, my desires, my failures, my mistakes… maybe I wouldn’t have made the same mistakes over and over again… and maybe… just maybe my children would not have had to suffer as a consequence of my lack of maturity to see how my own selfishness put them in harms way.

Yes, I take full responsibility for the mistake of marrying my second husband – and honestly – I take full responsibility for marrying my first husband as well. I had a choice. My hand was not forced. But I allowed the peer pressure of my lover, of my friends, of society, and of my own selfish demons pressure the decision for me, when honestly inside my heart I knew both times it was not love... it was ‘want’.

Want what you ask?

A need to feel needed, valued, loved. I had a need that I wanted to be filled… The fairytale… that’s what I’m told… but honestly… ask yourself that question. Who doesn’t want the fairytale? We all want it. It is not realistic. To want is realistic… but to realize that wants and desires are like a burning fire that can never be fully satisfied – that is reality. And to accept that reality… well… in my opinion, that is where love comes in. You can only love when you accept the whole deal… the good with the bad and it must come from both parties. If you don’t feel you are accepted just the way you are… if you feel like you have to be someone you are not… READ THE SIGNS for Pete’s sake and move on!

I am not a pessimist by any means. In fact, my positive attitude is what makes me who I am. But I am a realist. And in reality, no one or nothing is perfect. It is what it is, as the saying goes… unless it isn’t. Until I can see myself for what I am, and until I find someone who can see me and themselves the same way, I don’t think any relationship of any kind will ever work.

So the point of this whole blog… Divorce Recovery: Take Two… who needs it?

I don’t need anyone else to tell me what I did wrong – what he did wrong – what we did wrong. I already know. Where I go from here is what matters. What I learned as a wife – as a mother… that’s where I go. I cannot blame my marriage on his behavior – I tolerated, enabled, or fought it… all three are no way to make a marriage work.

Any relationship – be it marriage, friendship, or co-worker – there must be understanding and a willingness to accept flaws in each other and accept criticism of your own flaws. There must be willingness to want to make the other person happy, and not be selfish or self-centered in doing so. So don’t come to another with your bowl thinking that person can fill it up – fill the voids you hold in your heart.

It will not happen.

But if you can look into yourself and fill your own voids and be satisfied when you look in the mirror and think, “I do like who I am”, then you are on the road to recovery. And that is exactly where I am... no expectations of anyone else. Only expectations of what I can do for myself and in return, what I can do for others – but only after I see it within myself.

All I Want For Christmas...

“You girls need to make out your lists for Santa; Christmas will be here before you know it!” One would think that two children wouldn’t need a reminder to make a list of what they want… I mean, it’s present time for Pete’s sake, who stalls on a Christmas list?

When I was about 10 years old my mother would hand me the JC Penney’s catalog and ask me to write down everything I wanted out of the catalog. It took me about a week, but I remember handing her my completed list, complete with page numbers, item numbers and cost. If we only had the technology back then that we have today, I could have just copied the darn book, because I don’t think there was a single page in the toy section that didn’t have something I wanted on it. The years following that one, she just handed me a highlighter and I just handed her back the book with my name written on the front. My mother and I still joke about it today.

So it’s the week of Thanksgiving and I realize I need to do a little Christmas shopping for my own two girls. I really want to get them what ‘they’ want this year for Christmas. It’s not been a good year; they deserve the best the world can offer. I wish I could give them all they wanted, but I know reality… that I can probably only get a few items or so… and actually, so do they.

They amaze me.

“Here’s my list Momma. And it is okay if I don’t get all of that because I know you can’t really buy all that stuff.”

I take the wide-ruled loose leaf paper from my daughter’s hands in expectation of Toys R Us inventory. I scan the list. It doesn’t take long. Lip-gloss, a hairbrush, makeup.

Seriously? “Oh honey… is that all you really want for Christmas?”

I know this 12 year old must want more! Where is the X-Box? The cell phone? iPod? Surely she wants iTunes or CD’s, clothes, boots, and more… She is in the prime of her life… clothes and accessories are a must at age 12!

“Yes Momma, that’s all I want and need..."it’s on my list.”

“But baby, you must want more than just this.” I say.

About this time her younger sister hands me 3 pages of goodies she wants. Now that’s what I’m talking about! Let’s pretend money isn’t an issue – let’s dream big and hope big! I scan her list …

And again… three pages of items that probably cost $2 or less each.

Mom is perplexed. What is with the lists, I wonder. I ask if that is truly what they want for Christmas… several Dollar store type items… and that is all.

Silence.

Exchanged glances.

“Baby girls, I know it’s been a tough year, but I want you to pretend we had a million dollars and tell me what you really want for Christmas!” I finally exclaimed. Surely these two girls wanted more and were in cohorts to ‘go easy on mom’ with their never ceasing list of desires.

Finally my oldest breaks the silence.

“Santa can’t bring me what I want for Christmas.” She said.

“Oh baby, never underestimate the power of Santa!” I said, with a wink and a big grin. “Put it on your list if it is something you want!”, as I silently think to myself, “God bless my babies who have been through hell and back this year”.

“No Momma… he can’t.”

My younger daughter pipes in and adds, “He doesn’t make these in his workshop.”

“What is it that you want baby?”

Again… silence.

Exchanged glances.

A deep breath… “I want a Daddy.” She finally said.

Silence suffocated the room as the three of us exchanged glances again. I grabbed both of my baby girls and clutched them deep against my chest. I buried my tear stained face in their hair, hoping to wipe the tears before they even noticed.

Those four words still haunt me. They remind me of what my daughter has been through, what she has lost, what she has desired for years, what she has been denied.

But those four words tell me so much more...

“Let’s dream big and let’s hope big”. Words I said that I thought had fell on deaf ears, really had penetrated deep into the heart of my daughter. A young girl who has been through more than some twenty year olds… and she is clinging to hope.

Hope.

Never give up on hope and always dream big.

If you love something

let it go free
if it comes back
it was meant to be

Not enough...

An Artist can articulate beauty with the stroke of a brush.

Musicians can tug heart strings by the soft tunes that flow from an instrument.

Singers sing songs that can make your whole heart swell with emotion.

Actors can portray intimate parts of our lives on a screen ten times their size.

How then can we find words to express our feelings?

For some it is easy, it flows like a lazy river.

For some it is not so easy.

When the feelings surge inside I suddenly become speechless. I find it hard to breathe, let alone articulate the description of emotion rising in my pounding chest. Communication becomes a wall that I can’t seem to scale.

Words are not enough - paintings are not enough - songs and movies can’t portray the emotions I feel seeping through every pore of my skin.

Yet, sometimes they do.

Sometimes less is more.

Sometimes it is enough

to just plainly say, “I love you”.

Just a painting...

“I don’t want to impose, but if you have the time, I have a special request.”

“Sure.” I answered. “What is it?”

“I wanted to see if you could do a painting for me, but uh… I need it by Tuesday.”

Three days notice? I know the tone of this kind of request. I understand the urgency and motive behind it. I’ve heard it before. The motive is one of wanting to do something special for someone else, or for one in need. A painting is special and well, more thoughtful than a gift certificate. These requests come randomly, always unexpected. The choice is mine, to do or not to do. It is very short notice, but the choice is easy.

Before I said yes, I knew there was something divine about this particular situation.

It wasn’t until AFTER I said yes, that I found out what.

A friend of friend… that’s who this is for. Her name unknown, but her story has been lived by a million women over and over. The wife of an alcoholic, battered by the storm that only vodka and whiskey can create. She prayed unceasingly to be rescued. She cried out in the depths of her sorrow for her children to not witness their father fallen completely victim to his addiction. She did everything in her power to save and to piece her marriage together… the man she loved. At some point during this tumultuous storm, the waves surged and levy broke.

At some point, you must realize the situation and make a choice.

A choice. We as humans are the only creatures God created of free will. We get to choose. Sometimes those choices are easy. Sometimes those choices cloak our hearts with guilt and grief.

“Could you put her life verse on the painting?” my friend asked.

“Of course”, I said.

Her choice was not easy. Stay with her alcoholic husband, her love of her life… or leave for her children and own sanity of a better life. I do not envy the choice this woman had to make. I do not know her at all. But I do know she is a strong woman. I do know she has a love that is deeply embedded in her heart, and that this love was what motivated her choice.

“Okay, here it is. It’s weird I know, but it’s what she wants.”

“That’s fine”, I said. “Shoot!”

“For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and springs, that flow out of valleys and hills” ~ Deuteronomy 8:7

I wish this young woman happiness, peace and joy as she begins her new journey. I have no idea where she is headed, or the plans she has made. But I do know that she will be just fine, because she is strong... because her life verse gives away what is hidden in her heart.

I wonder if she has any idea how her story, her verse, her life… her choice, has touched a part of me? I understand her choice and I understand her hope in a promise that can come from only One.

I have been blessed...

It's the ride, not the final destination...

525,600 minutes

Five Hundred Twenty Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes

How do you measure a year of life?

I love this song from RENT. I’ve never seen the movie, but I love this song. It screams “Live your Life and cherish THOSE you love, not the ‘stuff’ you love!”

Stuff is just stuff. It’s generic, it’s bulky, it is nondescript. Stuff is just anything, nothing really important, that fills the voids, the holes, the insecurities of our lives. Why spend our time, our precious minutes given to us in this world on stuff? Why stuff our time, our schedules with nondescript things that will have no impact or enhance our personal lives and relationships?

“Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.” ~ James 4:14

So why waste the most precious gift given to us – our lives, which translates into time – on stuff – that just fills the empty holes?

I’m told I’m a busy person. It drives my family crazy sometimes. “A fly by the seat of my pants” kinda gal. Schedules can drive me nuts, but without them I go nuts because I’m constantly on the go. Constantly doing something and I have a hard time saying no. But, I do carefully choose what I spend my time on. It’s not random nor is it without purpose…

And here is why…

Way over Five Hundred Twenty Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes ago, God started cleaning house on me. Some days I feel my life is a written script of 'WHAT NOT TO DO'... In the last year, I’ve lost most material possessions that I used to cherish. I got to the point where I was beyond the point of worry, grasping to hold on to the temporal things of this earth. The only ‘thing to do’ was trust in my Lord to meet my needs.

So, I took a leap of faith and dove right in…

He met my needs, but not exactly how I expected or wanted at the time. He met my needs by repossessing my ‘dream’ car I had worked many years to payoff, only to put it up for collateral on a dream home I had always wanted, in order to appear I had ‘arrived’ and lived in a big girl house. I played the role of the happy, successful wife and mother well… but it was just STUFF and God had even bigger STUFF in store for me.

But the only way for me to see what he had in store for me was to strip me from the stuff I had been placing so much value in. It was a painful process, but once I got there, I found peace… a peace that can only come from a divine spirit. And I quickly realized that there are so many other things that I should be focused on, like focusing on HIM and relationships of those people He so divinely placed in my life.

Yes, I believe everything happens for a reason and paths do not cross by fate, but by divine purpose

So, now I try to listen more, talk less. When I say I will pray for others, I mean it. I don’t volunteer or offer my precious time unless I see a way it can glorify my Lord. I’m not stingy with the only free resource God has given me. Time. So, I try to give more and take less, love more and gripe less, be available for my family more and spend my time doing things I love, not dread for the sake of filling empty holes. In exchange I focus more on filling up empty hearts full of love. Build up instead of tear down, lift up instead of step on for personal gain. Plainly do the right thing.

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' ~ Matthew 22: 37 – 39

So although I tease that it is ‘ALL ABOUT ME’… it really isn’t. But shhh… let’s just keep that between us, ok?

Pursuit of Happiness...

I watched “The Pursuit of Happiness” with Will Smith this weekend. I have to admit, I didn’t have it on my radar as a must see movie. It appeared that the scope of the movie was already played out in the trailers. I already knew how this movie would end. But it was on, so I watched it while I did a little computer work and laundry.

To my surprise, I was drawn in… completely captivated by this character, Chris Gardner. The portrayal of this man’s life was moving… truly a man tested and purified through fire. From losing his wife, risking a new career, facing social and economical prejudices – this man held me in awe for the love of his child and his actual pursuit to find happiness. Each time he turned around there was another obstacle, as if he played the role of Job himself. What more could a man take, yet hold all composure in the eyes of his son and his employer.

It’s probably true for most of us, that when trial presents itself, we go into self pity mode. Chris Gardner had every right to – yet he fought it and prevailed. He did not let cynical remarks flow off his lips, which could have been so easily justified… yet he thought before he spoke – never lied to cover his personal issues – yet deflected them in a witty manner, which landed him a new career.

So I ran into this guy at the River Market one day…

A true hippy, I thought, as I noticed his long hair, pony tail, dirty nails and tan skin. He had his table set up to sell stones and minerals that promised healing powers and supernatural protections. I’m not into all the ‘hocus-pocus’ behind the power of a rock, but as an artist, I have always been drawn to the symbol of a rock for strength and power, especially in my faith as a Christian. Brooks babbling over rocks, cliffs and bluffs have always stimulated my love for beauty in nature. So, I stopped to see what he had laying about.

I was intrigued by the beauty of each stone. They all had meaning behind them according to him, but their beauty was captivating. The way some glistened and reflected the light – the way some held such a bold defining brilliance. Some were laying about just scattered on the table, while others had been caged in copper wiring to hand delicately as a necklace.

Time was running short, so I thanked him for letting me indulge my eyes in the beauty of his rocks and went about my business.

Several hours later, as I was returning to my car, I walked by his table again. The sun was not beaming hot and most other vendors in the River Market had already closed up shop. But the Rock Man… He was still there. He said, “Hello”, and was again drawn to the beauty that sprawled on the table.

“How much?” I asked, more in a manner of being polite than of actually wanting to purchase. He said, “For you, $4 dollars”. Wow – only four bucks… I could swing that. There was one rock in particular that held my gaze. I asked how much for the pendant and the single matching stone, and he said, “For you, $5 dollars”. Wow, what a bargain. The rocks reminded me of an old friend, so I decided to purchase the pendant and the loose stone. He thanked me kindly, and delicately wrapped each stone in a piece of old worn cloth. I took my treasures and went merrily on my way.

So what does “The Pursuit of Happiness” and the Rock Man have to do with each other?

Well… about 2 weeks after I had purchased the rocks, I saw the Rock Man. But this time he was not at the River Market. He did not have his loot sprawled out for all to see, there was no beautiful sunlight glistening off his display. He was hunched over a bag that appeared to weigh more than he. It was obviously clear that what I had mistaken as a hippy appearance was that of a homeless man living on the street.

My mind instantly raced back to the day I saw him at the River Market. He was gentle and well mannered. He was as clean as clean could be, I thought… and to think he was carrying around his income, home, and food wherever he roamed. Chris Gardner came to mind, as he too was homeless at one time. But you never would have known it; just I never suspected it from the Rock Man. I give that man a lot of credit, to preserve these tough times right now. I hope that $5 I gave him provided a hot meal for his belly. Something that seemed so frivolous to me, gave more to him, I am sure. I wish the Rock Man well and do hope that he lands on top through his trials he is facing.

“If you're going through hell, Keep on going, Don't slow down
If you're scared, don't show it, You might get out
Before the devil even knows you're there”
~ Rodney Atkins song If You’re Going Through Hell

Love Conquers All

Forgive and forget… they say time heals all wounds.

I’m not sure these wounds can be healed. It was one thing when you abused me verbally, emotionally, and mentally. It’s a whole different story when you did it to my daughter. She was a baby – only seven years old when you started in on her! Blaming, Yelling, Calling her Stupid, there was nothing she could do right in your eyes, and oh how she tried. Oh how she wanted to please you.

You say you love me – if that is true, how could you hurt something so dear and tender to me? Those are my babies! A mother’s love! There is NOTHING ELSE LIKE IT! Were you jealous? Were you envious? Did she have something you wanted, so you used your manhood might to crush her spirit, her self esteem, her value? She watched you, she learned from you. All she ever wanted was a Daddy.

She started treating her friends the way she saw you treat others. She couldn’t understand why it was so wrong, when it was done to her. You are an ADULT – she is just a child. Embarrassing her in front of friends? Ridiculing her in front of family members? When she would come to you with news of accomplishments you stole her glory by dismissing it. You withheld love from her. You have SCARRED HER FOR LIFE! DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOUR WORDS HAVE DONE? You have stolen an innocence from her that she was entitled to… you used your booming voice and hefty size, making her feel smaller and smaller inside – worth nothing.

You said what you felt – nothing. She felt what you said – nothing!

I’m mad as hell! You should have known better. None of us ever treated you that way! Do you feel like a big man now that what you have done is exposed? Do you feel good knowing you broke the spirit of a child?

For the life of me, I don’t understand why… I’ve asked it a million times!

You treated us all like we meant nothing. We meant nothing, and we felt it. I tried so hard to soften your heart. I prayed daily for your salvation that you so pridefully defended you had! I prayed that your heart of stone – that grumpy old man – would see how lucky he was to have us. I just knew that love could conquer evil. I was hopeful that you would be swayed by my love. I forgave you day after day. I forgave you morning – noon and night. I forgave the mocking, belittling me in front of family and friends, leaving me stranded, not caring how or if I could get home, never leaving a light on, keeping me away from family and friends, mocking me as I talked to friends, telling me I was acting stupid when I used humor or wit to cheer someone up, guilting me into doing things I did not want to do, guilting me into doing things I found morally and unethically sound.

I believed you when you said you loved me… I believed you. I gave you chance after chance, pleading for peace in my broken soul and spirit. I was in a constant state of confusion during our entire relationship. I never knew what to do to make you happy. Your actions did not align to your words. However, for several years, my heart was telling me to leave, my soul knew there was something not right, but I never felt led to leave you. I felt that God still had work to do. I begged God to release me from this marriage – to not endure anymore of your belittling, cowardish, bullying words and actions.

I remember crying into my pillow at night… begging for forgiveness of whatever I had done to be in the hell I was living and watching my children live. But, I continued to trust in God – he has a plan – I begged for him to reveal it to me.

I turned it over to Him to control, because you were out of control. I trusted God’s plan and endured my own little private hell for years. I continued to say I love you, which I thought I meant… and actually I do mean, but not as a wife.

You always had the last word… it was an ‘or else’ statement every time. A threat – no… you meant it! I remember the first time you said it… and I challenged you, being the feisty woman I am. Boy did you put me in my place real quick. Everyone that knew me couldn’t believe I was broken down as low as you broke me. But, for that I take responsibility, because I had a choice, and I chose to stay put. I had faith and love big enough for all of us to turn this thing around. But you won, as you always did. Every fight, every game, every debate… you always came out right and on top.

I’ve never in my life met anyone as cruel, heartless and manipulative as you. I thought it was an act, to protect a soft heart hidden inside. I searched for years for a glimpse of it… I begged for you to show me that heart. To share with me – to be intimate… but in my most humble, vulnerable and transparent moments, you took advantage and knocked me to my knees. Your words were not like a knife, but more like salt being grinded into an open wound. But I wasn’t enough. You had to move on to my children – the things I valued and loved. You had to tear them apart too. My parents, my dreams, even down to my dog, who you scolded and kicked. You kicked a wounded dog down, just like you kicked me and my daughter down.

I had a spirit that could fly like the wind – passionate and deep… you broke me. You broke my daughter. It took a life changing event to make me see… to lift the scales from my eyes to what you were – what you were doing to me… to my baby.

Now, you are out of our lives. And honestly… it is liberating! None of us miss you. This home is so much more joyful – so much more at peace without you in our lives to beat us down with your words day after day.

My prayer, even when we were together, was that our house would be a home… a safe haven for our family. A place to feel safe, at peace and rest. I wanted nothing more than to hear echoes of laughter and joy bounce off the walls, instead of fists and doors slamming.

For years I felt God did not answer my prayers… that his answer was “No”. But, God did answer that prayer. Our home is now a safe haven – a refuge – full of healing hearts, no longer afraid. No one is afraid to speak anymore. No one is afraid to show love anymore. This house is warm again. A family lives here again. We now have, what you proclaimed you so badly desired.

And now… well – you crossed the line. There is a consequence. Yes there is a limit to how many chances you get in life.

I remember you saying that the opposite of love is not hating… it is nothing. That’s what you gave us – nothing… So I guess that means, you never did truly love us.

Nothing. I don’t love you. I don’t hate you.

At times I feel sorry for you, but then again, you made your choice, you will have to deal with the consequence. I tried to warn you that you had crossed the line. I wrote you letters in hopes they would get through since my words were never heard– you would not listen. I begged and pleaded to be heard, you ridiculed and mocked me.

Recently you said you still loved me and that you are a changed man. You said that I can’t say you don’t love me, because you can’t tell your heart who to love. Well that is true; however, you can’t force your heart to love someone either. When you lived here, love didn’t live here. Now that you are gone, love has come back to heal and restore.

I loved you unconditionally during our marriage. You know it is true. Love. Love conquers all, not you, not your crafty manipulative ways. And the love of a mother, to rescue her child has saved us all. Hopefully love has saved you, and you are a changed man… but you are not a man I could ever spend the rest of my life with.

Forgive you? I have. .. Forget? Impossible.

It’s time for this broken wing to heal and fly again…