I've lost many things in my life. I once lost a $20 bill inside my car door. Just recently, Lou lost one of his cats at the beach as it was sucked from his hand by the current and sent to Africa... or at least that's the story I told him as I tried to comfort his grieving heart. I've lost family, friends...
One of the more heartbreaking and more noticeable losses in my life is the years I lost getting to know and forming a relationship with my little cousins. And they aren't exactly so little anymore. When I was pregnant with Logan, the younger two cousins were only 3 years old. To help my Grandmother out as she watched them, I led them downstairs to watch movies and help me assemble baby gear. When one of their mothers fell ill with cancer, I was there watching them in their home every day I wasn't on a plane. Once their mother passed, they spent many nights at my grandparents home despite the fact that my grandmother had passed at that point as well. The biggest difference being they didn't dare go downstairs to where I lived with my then husband and two kids.
Their fear of my ex-husband kept them from visiting, I brushed it off as silliness and would beg my aunt and uncle to let them come play video games or hang out... promises made by them would be long forgotten until I would bring it up again. They were afraid of him, afraid of his outbursts as they'd heard him beneath their feet yelling at myself or the children. They had heard the way he'd talked to their parents or my grandfather. They didn't feel comfortable in his presence. Children and dogs have uncanny abilities of knowing good from bad and I dismissed them. I dismissed my cousins in a way that I can only regret and attempt to make up for now.
Now they're High Schoolers and they couldn't care less about their snot nosed second cousins that they have in my children. They're too old and too cool to be in their presence. The sting of personal time loss with family because I felt THEIR view of HIM was ridiculous will never leave me. I haven't forgotten the pride I felt when I'd hear of Cello concerts and baseball games and chorus concerts and every other event they would shine in. I haven't forgotten their silly toddler ways. I haven't forgotten all the hours I would spend with them when they were tiny even though they'll never remember those moments as I do. If I could have them know anything, it's that I'm so proud of them. So proud of what they've managed to overcome after one set of cousins lost their father to suicide and the other set's mother lost her battle to cancer. I'm so proud of the strides they've made in life, how their motivation to move forward is inspiring. I'm so proud of them, and I wish I'd been allowed that time despite knowing I can't ever get that time back.
My door is always open for them and maybe one day they'll remember my voice and hear me calling for them.
One of the more heartbreaking and more noticeable losses in my life is the years I lost getting to know and forming a relationship with my little cousins. And they aren't exactly so little anymore. When I was pregnant with Logan, the younger two cousins were only 3 years old. To help my Grandmother out as she watched them, I led them downstairs to watch movies and help me assemble baby gear. When one of their mothers fell ill with cancer, I was there watching them in their home every day I wasn't on a plane. Once their mother passed, they spent many nights at my grandparents home despite the fact that my grandmother had passed at that point as well. The biggest difference being they didn't dare go downstairs to where I lived with my then husband and two kids.
Their fear of my ex-husband kept them from visiting, I brushed it off as silliness and would beg my aunt and uncle to let them come play video games or hang out... promises made by them would be long forgotten until I would bring it up again. They were afraid of him, afraid of his outbursts as they'd heard him beneath their feet yelling at myself or the children. They had heard the way he'd talked to their parents or my grandfather. They didn't feel comfortable in his presence. Children and dogs have uncanny abilities of knowing good from bad and I dismissed them. I dismissed my cousins in a way that I can only regret and attempt to make up for now.
Now they're High Schoolers and they couldn't care less about their snot nosed second cousins that they have in my children. They're too old and too cool to be in their presence. The sting of personal time loss with family because I felt THEIR view of HIM was ridiculous will never leave me. I haven't forgotten the pride I felt when I'd hear of Cello concerts and baseball games and chorus concerts and every other event they would shine in. I haven't forgotten their silly toddler ways. I haven't forgotten all the hours I would spend with them when they were tiny even though they'll never remember those moments as I do. If I could have them know anything, it's that I'm so proud of them. So proud of what they've managed to overcome after one set of cousins lost their father to suicide and the other set's mother lost her battle to cancer. I'm so proud of the strides they've made in life, how their motivation to move forward is inspiring. I'm so proud of them, and I wish I'd been allowed that time despite knowing I can't ever get that time back.
My door is always open for them and maybe one day they'll remember my voice and hear me calling for them.
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