A Year and a Half

“Guess who I'm chatting with, Mom?”

"Who?"

"Erin."

Stop.

"Erin who?"

"You know, Don's daughter."

Keep folding.

"You've had her AIM all of this time?"

It's been a year and a half.
A year and a half and a lifetime.
A year and a half and a day.

"I just remembered it."

"That's some memory you have."

"Yeah."

It runs in the family.

"I'm having trouble holding on to who I am."
He said.
I understand.
I always understand.

I don't want to lose myself, either.
Getting to myself was hardwon.
A year and a half later, I've gotten back parts that I let go.
Funny how quickly that happened.

I don't think I would do that now.
Two and a half years ago, it was so new to me.
I didn't feel like I had to be on guard.

And I don't cut and run.

I don't think it was about feeling lost.
That’s an easier excuse.

It
was
about

surrender

trust

acceptance

believing.

Easier to cut and run.

Is it a fault or a grace to see the best parts of someone?
To see that the entirety is greater than the sum of the parts?
To love the parts because they formed the whole?

Progression Regression
Reversal
Whole
Gain in loss.
Refinement in fire.

Love
Laughter
Joy
Peace

It's all here.

I don't seek perfection, I seek what's real.

I'm real.