I love you. That will always be true. All of you.
I know that this is so very hard sometimes, and I know that you don’t really understand why I am not there, or why you can’t see your sister.
The truth is, I don’t understand it either.
There are days, where I want to give up. When it overwhelms me. When I go over and over and over again everything in my mind, wishing I could go back and do things another way, wishing something would give already.
Not a second goes by where I don’t see the way things should be. When I’m with her, I see the place where you both should be. There is this emptiness in me where my children belong, and, I’m sure, a hole in you where your Mother belongs.
The fact that I can’t stop this, that I can’t change this, that I can’t seem to make this right, no matter what I do, well, it kills me.
Sometimes, I admit, I want to hide from it. I want to make it all go away. Sometimes I can’t even bear to think about it, or talk about it. Sometimes, I am a coward, and I can’t face the pain, and I put it down. And then I realize that that’s not fair to you, so I pick it back up again. Because this isn’t about me, not really.
And then I get angry. I get angry at them, for making this so much worse for you than it has to be. They could fix this all with a word, they could do the right thing, they could make this better for you. And sometimes I rage for awhile.
But I have to admit, I’m mostly angry at me. Because I should be able to do something. Moms are supposed to be able to fix things. And no matter what I do, it seems like this will never end. This is something I just can’t seem to fix. I don’t have what it takes to be able to fix this. And I hate myself for it.
But still I try.
And I need you to know just how much I have tried. I need you to know that I didn’t abandon you. I didn’t give up. No matter what they say, this was never how things were meant to be. And someday, somehow, things will be right. I promise.
But for now… I love you. And I’m sorry.