Until I got home. And realized I’m still in the trenches, still in the battle, still waging war against the RAD that encompasses my child.
What Orlando did for me, however, was encourage me about who I am.
That I have something to offer.
I struggle with that, wondering how in the world I am making a difference in the world outside my home.
I believe God is working in me, calling me to a future ministry that I’m not sure even exists yet.
I am by far not the most educated one of these moms as to trauma and neurological implications and treatments, etc.
But I have persevered through 11 years of heartache and triumph, loss and gain.
I had one of my housemates tell me that I was a woman of grace. I can’t tell you how much that meant to me. I so want to personify grace and forgiveness and restoration.
I want to encourage and uplift because so many days over the last years there has been no one outside my family who gets this life.
I want my words to give hope for without hope we are as lost as our kids.
What Orlando did for me was begin the process of opening the floodgates of grief in my soul.
Ten years since getting our three adopted kiddos, since losing my sister at age 53.
Seven years since B left for RTC and never came home, with false allegations thrown in there for fun.
Three and a half years since my parents went suddenly into a nursing home, leaving me with all of their life together to deal with, through their home and their “stuff” and their needs.
Two years since my dad died.
Two months since my mom died of hypothermia due to the neglect of her assisted living facility.
One day since my daughter became engaged.
Five months until my son leaves for college.
And the rivers of grief roll over me.
I want to say thank you to the Orlando women who accepted me and listened to me and just seemed to enjoy ME. I may not have shed tears this weekend but they roll on and on and on.