FREEdom in Writing

I bought this journal - for me and for Kendall. And in it I am writing letters to Kendall. Sometimes I write one a day, sometimes five, and sometimes, well, I’m not in the mood to write anything.

Everything about it appealed to me: the burnt oranges and yellows and warm colors on the cover, and especially, especially, the birds. I’d like to think that a mama bird is extending a branch to her baby bird. She is extending unconditional love and nurturance to her baby. She is showing her she loves her and will always take care of her.

...And the FREE, oh wow. It could mean so many things: that Kendall is free from a life she may have had to live in suffering, or that I am on my way to freeing myself from some of this grief, or even my eating disorder.

Last night I told her that I wished she could have watched Glee with me on my tivo, because it would have made her laugh, just like her mama. And I tell her always that if she had lived, and if I had had the opportunity to raise her from infancy to childhood, and finally, to womanhood, I would have wanted her to know above all else that many things in her life would have changed; she would certainly have gone through pain and hardship, but her worth and her beauty and goodness would never have changed. I wanted her to know that life can hurt and be bad but that she doesn’t have to be reduced by it. I tell her every day, in every letter, that she is good and that she is my daughter and I love her. And then I sign it
xoxo, Mommy.

And I feel really peaceful after I write these letters.

Because I know she is getting them.