Saying goodbye

We all say “goodbye, see you, or even, farewell”, at least once a day, every day. Some of these separations are momentary, small windows of time in our daily lives, while others are permanent; heart-wrenching in their finality.

 There is a 5 year old little girl who I said a final goodbye to last week, yet I will not miss her. Those curly locks of dark hair, coupled with haunting brown eyes will always be with me, but saying farewell was one of the most freeing things I’ve ever experienced. She was needy, clinging to me in such a way that I was constantly smothered by her cries of “love me, love me, PLEASE love me."

She didn’t help me to live a better life; in fact she caused me pain beyond belief, dragging me into abusive relationships, thoughts of suicide and a walk through darkness in which I am just now coming to terms with. This child made me feel unworthy of love, making me seek people who would show me how right she was. She didn’t know how to accept love, and in return, it was not given.

I know her story. I lived with her through the darkest of her days, held her close when the tears seemed never ending, and helped her write the first, second, and even third, ‘goodbye world’ letter.  Although I always did and still do admire her skills of mental prowess and courage, there were many days I despised them as well, wondering why she didn’t just end it all. Why live a life of numbness when there is an eternity of nothingness waiting within arm’s reach?  

It took 40 years, but I am finally rid of this needy, clinging child, completely lacking any sort of self-esteem or feelings of self-worth.  She was put into a box and buried, but I have no intentions of visiting her grave, for it is surrounded by shadows and a darkness which would love nothing more than to swallow me whole. 

Don’t be sad for her, she’s where she should have been all along. In finally relegating my 5 year old self to the past and all its memories, rather than carrying her with me like a badge, I am finally able to live freely, with love felt in total abandonment. I can dance, I can sing, I can laugh without her clawing at me, asking how I dare to feel joy when she is immersed in pain.

That little girl finally knows that she was loved all along, never abandoned, never alone. I had the caring arms of God wrapped around me all along. Knowing this allows me to stop seeking that which was with me all along, LOVE.

Goodbye little girl, we are all grown up.