A couple days later, I received my next memory, from 581 ago. Adoption failure in full effect, working on a pair of sisters that were homeless (which were pulled out from under us at the very last moment, of course) I was at my very lowest. I was terrified of the public, terrified of that "face" people would give me and taking my introvertness to a new level. I was in a very dark dark place. But, when a member of your tribe calls, you go and you help. It was appropriately pouring rain, I did what any brave girl would do: drank six beers, did what she needed me to do and had mini panic attacks that I would run into one of my NASCAR friends who were waiting to hear my good news and see pictures of well, nothing. I hauled booty the moment I could and was certain I would never feel better again.
There is a happy ending,
I took the last picture on Saturday of my sweet girl. It just gives me (and I hope you) the reminder that things do work out for a reason, none of those things were meant to be and the journey was worth it. The journey is always worth it. No matter if you are adopting a baby, struggling with your current job, hating your boyfriend or are in a happy go lucky place...the process to get there is in your hands and time is the key of perception. If you ask yourself, what is this gonna matter in ten days, ten months, ten years...the answer will set you free. See I just went all Oprah on you and you didn't even notice.
Till next time xo