With a heavy heart

 

Dear Chloe,

This is one of my most favorite pictures of you. You look so happy and serene and at one with yourself. It makes me sad right now because I know right now that's not how you feel. I wish with all of my heart that I could take that away from you, that I could just sit you on my lap and hold your head to my chest and squeeze you until you felt my love warm you down to your bones and you'd never suffer again because of that love. I wish I could make everything magical and comfortable and wonderfully brilliant and colorful for you all the time. I wish I could put an iron case around your heart so no one could ever hurt you and that beautifully sensitive and careful spirit would never be damaged ever again. But I also know that I can't do this for you and it kills me. 

Tonight you came up to me, wringing your shirt in your fingers and tears were welling up in your eyes. You said, "Mom, can I talk to you for a second?" and I said yes, and you said, "Can I tell you something? There is something that's been bothering me at school, and that's why I don't want to go." I took your wringing hands into mine and looked you in the eyes and said, "Tell me what's up."

As the tears spilled over your cheeks, it was all I could do to keep myself from doing the same. I felt your hurt in the very center of my heart, because I knew exactly how it felt. I saw myself in you so clearly it stung like a knife.  Everything I promised myself you would never feel you were feeling right then, at least to a certain extent. You were lost. You felt alone. You felt hurt by others' actions. You missed home. You missed me at school. You missed Daddy at school. You missed Grandma, whose absence in your almost daily life I can only imagine would be so hard for a little girl who has such a great friendship with her. You missed your friends back home. You miss your teacher and your school. In our hurry to move to the next phase of our lives, I assumed the transition would not affect you as much as it has and I am sorry for that. I remember well how it feels to bottle things up and let them eat at you because you don't want anyone to know that you hurt. I should have been aware of that today as I saw you melt down over so many things, I should have taken care at my words when I told you not to be so sensitive. I was dead wrong. I'm so sorry. But I am glad you let it out, and you allowed yourself to hurt to me. You can ALWAYS cry to me, my arms will always be open to hold you forever.

As you sat in my arms and cried so bitterly, I also saw something so beautiful in you. For probably the first time in your life, and certainly not the last, you were starting to be polished a little bit. As much as I want to protect you from all pain so I will never see that bright and wonderful smile ever be tarnished again, I could never rob you of those experiences. It is that polishing that is going to make you shine so bright, so much brighter than you do now. I hate that it is starting already, I know I'm not ready for it either, but I also know that given everything, I would not take away the polishing I've had in my life either. It is what helped me turn to God, and if that's what this is preparing you for, it will be oh so worth it. This life is hard, and it gets so much harder, but we are not alone, and neither are you. You are never ever alone.

 

You have such a beautiful and wise spirit. I know you ache for home. I do too. We will do our best to make home wherever we are together, and as we strive to do this together, even when we are apart or away, we will be blessed with that spirit of togetherness. Our hearts will always be knit together as one when we knit them with our Heavenly Home as well. 

 I love you so much. You will be okay, and thank you for being my daughter. I wouldn't trade you for anything.