To Get Me To You

Speaking of traveling & tears...or was I? I’m going to see my daughter this weekend. I realize if a stranger reads this blog, not a lot will make sense. But, again, this is for me and my sanity, right? Not that it really makes sense to me either… Anyway, I leave this Friday to see the little human that means more to me than all the world.

When I say, out loud, that I haven’t seen her in almost five months I want to throw up. I wonder if she’s been okay. I wonder if she’ll be angry with me, not understanding where I’ve been and why I’ve been gone. I wonder if she’s taller and if she’s learned new songs to share. I wonder if she’s had any idea how much I’ve missed her every minute and how hard I’ve fought to get back to her. Someday I'm certain she'll know the history of us. I also know that she'll never understand how her mother and I got to this place. I don't think anyone could understand.

When I go to her, we stay in a hotel. It seems cold and impersonal but it has really been the best option so far. It's very near to her house and her favorite book store. I've been staying there for over a year so even when I'm not there, she thinks I live there. I like that.

My hope, after yet another person gives us permission to be together, is to get a little apartment. I want her to have her own room with her own things. But this weekend the same hotel and same hotel room will have to do. I'll bring the same toys, the same movies, the same clothes as always. I want her to have continuity. I want her to feel the security of "stuff" and "me" like we're always right there - even if she's driving by the hotel. Like we have a home together.

I can’t wait until we do.