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Seventeen years ago, I was at a little hospital in Laguna Beach with wires and tape and IV drips all around me. I was only twenty-one and just a little scared. The doctor promised me you would be out before his golf game. The delivery proved to be a little more difficult than that.
For the last few years, things have been kinda tough for us. I know I was at fault for a big chunk of how it all started. I was unprepared to be a mom at such a young age. I thought I could handle it all... one day at a time... but you and I know it was a lot more difficult than that.
I was reminded of your sweet Little Girl self so many times earlier this year when we sold the house, packed, and then moved. I walked through every room of that house and pictured all the fun we used to have as a family. I wept for the brokenness of the state of our family and wished for better days. It hurt to know that you never came back to that home... that we couldn't quite make that happen... but then, I thought, maybe in a new environment, maybe some place else, you and I could have a fresh start.
That, too, has proven more difficult than anticipated...
My heart jumped when you wrote to me on my birthday. Your words were so sweet. Thank you. It's been nice communicating with you, at least in some form, however limited. But what I would love more than anything... what I ache for... what I want to do today is to just hug you. To tell you to your face how much I love you and miss you and wish that we had some kind of life together. I wonder how much longer it will be before you and I lay eyes on each other again.
No matter what, please know that I love you and that I wish the best for you every day and send out a prayer for your safety every night.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Happy Birthday, Lori Bug.
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