Let the photo speak…

I have a confession to make: I was at a total loss today about what to post. Is life that boring and uneventful? No, I’m just brain-fried from work today. So, I came up with this little idea of going to my photo folder, randomly picking a photo, and talking about the story behind it. This is what we have:

This is my little girl and her daddy. This photo was taken on the last day they saw each other, before my ex had to hop on a plane and go back home. These two hadn’t seen each other except once when  my daughter, Noelle, was 5, and before that, she was 2, and has no memory of it. She’s now 11, and is getting to know her father, relatively speaking, for the first time. Unfortunately, he doesn’t live close by, and she gets quite sad because she has missed so much, and doesn’t want to miss any more. But at least she now has him in her life.

Long story short, mistakes were made, and Noelle’s father and I should never have gotten married or remained together when I found out that I was pregnant. We thought we were doing the right thing, however wrong we were. He was so unhappy, he moved out one day while I was at work, and I came home to a half-empty home, and a half-empty heart. It took at least two years for the tears to finally stop, and to get my life back into a forward-moving direction. I still have regrets (and most likely always will) about not appreciating my baby as much as I could have during that time. I was not in the present moment like I should have been; I was not the mother my girl deserved. But Noelle was too young to remember having her father around, and fast-forward ten years, out of the blue, she began asking questions about him. What is he like? Where does he live? Who is his family? And, the touchy one: What happened between you two? No, I do not tell her all of the truth. I tell her what she needs to know; that Mommy and Daddy just weren’t happy together and Daddy needed to go someplace else where he could find that happiness on his own. All other inquiries, I suggested one day, she should ask him about, if she’s interested. Luckily, she was and she did. I was always hoping that they would eventually find a way back to each other and renew that sacred relationship between father and daughter. I’m a believer that a child needs both parents equally, even if they cannot live together. And when we did contact him, I discovered something magical that gives me a wonderful feeling: all that water has passed under the bridge (and the bridge didn’t burn). There has been a tremendous amount of forgiveness and healing that has taken place between Noelle’s father and I; no regrets, no bitterness, no animosity, no unhealed scars. We speak to each other just like two people who happen to be in love with the same little girl and want nothing but the best for her. Complete cooperation, understanding, and respect between us, and we are so lucky to be able to be on the same page there. I feel so happy for Noelle to be able to have her daddy in her life; the one man who calls her his princess, the one man who loves her as much as I do…and I am so happy that there are no bad feelings to hide in the process. None. ZERO. I have been blessed, I know it, and I am so very thankful. That is just another reason why I love photos; they preserve the memories and keep the significance of life fresh and alive.

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