Finally, after many false finishes, it might be okay to think I’m finally on a path toward publishing. The path is very long. The distance is far. The outcome is highly questionable. But I’m confident! I just completed editing for the umpteenth time and will likely have more of it to do, but the guessing is over. The steps are defined. The work is feeling close to finished. I think I don’t have another rewrite to do. Changes. Massaging. Shuffling. Peer review. Beta readers.
I no longer feel like I’m out here in the dark. I’m expecting helpful bright light! I know this is a good read and I’m anxious to share it. It’s also a difficult story to tell, but with recovery to match the damage.
Abandonment is a huge subject. Mine is easy to see. But in this world we abandon each other all the time, right and left, in so many ways for so many reasons. It goes on all around us every day. Few of us think, hey, I’m going to abandon her. Or him. A child. An aging parent. A husband or a wife. Divorce is a form of abandonment. Running away is too. So is simple neglect. Abandonment might be in our DNA. We permit ourselves to walk away over and over and over. It is easier than to stay stay stay.
In writing my own story, I learned to see my mother differently, to understand her motives, her needs, her realities. I don’t like her any better, but I have a better grip on who she was and why, and wish I had done this work earlier. I would not have liked her but understanding would have made all the difference. And permits forgiving.
Seeing parents for real is very difficult. Knowing they are people beyond being parents is hard for a child to hold steady. That is a learning process needing all the components. Parents rarely give us that. We come to much of it blind. Maturity comes when we begin to see. The hard work is worth the effort. Completing the task is imperative.