Missing

These are the last pictures I have of Samantha. We have not spoken since August 9, 2014 - seven months.

She said some things that cannot be excused unless she apologizes and her asking for forgiveness is beyond her 17 year old reach.  With her temperament and attitude I don't know when or if she will find those words. 

It took me forty years to learn how to forgive and ask for forgiveness - and more importantly - forgive myself for my own mistakes.  I manage my expectations for Sam against this knowledge.  It might be a long time before she is ready for that step.

It has not been easy being without a daughter who already makes herself distant both physically and emotionally.  Missed holidays, missed trips, missed family interaction.  We are a family living a good life but with a piece missing.  All of those events are enhanced by Sam's presence.  In those rare moments that she let's her guard down her sense of humor and astuteness bring out so much more in the moment.

August 7, 2014

It's even harder having to hear her life through an ex-wife who only contacts me with the dramatic, intensified, roll-your-eyes-what-happpened-now news with a heavy dose of the sacrifices she has had to make over the last twelve years.

The boys are not really aware that Sam is gone from the family dynamic. Her room is still there as it was.  Her pictures are still on the walls.  Seven year olds and four year olds live in their own bubbles of friends and fun.  It's hard for them to notice that they don't talk to their sister.  I am blessed that they have each other but sad that she does not have them.

Sam is a on a journey that might produce some amazing results.  She might live the life less lived.  But there is a lot of failure in a journey like that.  And it's an intense struggle to figure it out at 17.  Heck, most 27, 37, and 47 year olds can't figure it out.  Unfortunately, the trip is a maze right now; filled with dead ends and double backs and she can't see over the wall to know which direction is right.  I can't help her.  She doesn't want it.

It aches to sit on the sideline knowing that my involvement will only make things worse.

I miss her every day.