Bonded for Life

The other night, my kids and I reconnected with their sisters from my previous marriage. It had been almost two years since we had seen them. During those two years, I was in a space where I needed to disconnect for a while. Regroup. Focus on getting up off my knees.

Even though the time we spent together were hard years filled with struggle and brokenness, we developed bonds beyond step-sisters, step-daughters and half-sisters. We became family, no technical labels, just family. The kids spent a good part of their childhood growing up together. They built forts in the woods and played make-believe. Some of them transitioned from Barbies to boys while others watched and wondered what was happening. We got into fights and then we made up. We ate meals together, vacationed together, spent Christmas together, celebrated birthdays together. We raised butterflies in the summer and went sledding in the winter. We made memories. It wasn’t perfect, but no family is. And in the midst of it all we grew to love each other.

I didn’t forget, but the good times got lost in the mire. They were covered in the shadows of the dark clouds that had rolled in and poured a cold hard rain on me for years. And I just needed to find a safe, quiet place away from the storm.

Every now and again I would check in with Grace and ask her if she still kept in touch with the girls. And it was always a yes. Some bonds aren’t meant to be broken.

Yesterday, she planned to get together with Ava and afterwards, Ava came back to the house to say hi to all the kids. And there standing in front of me was this tall beautiful creature that in the past two years had shed her little girl self and was becoming a young woman. Time has a way of being relentless sometimes, it doesn’t stop and wait for your own personal readiness to heal. Later that night, we visited Rhea who is three days away from leaving for college - in Hawaii. And when I stepped out of the car and saw her, my heart dropped. She was all grown up. She was poised and confident (and a little nervous) but ready to take the next step, and I had almost missed it. We hugged and exchanged I missed you’s and I love you’s. I must have told her a hundred times to be safe and make good choices, one of my favorite ways to tell my kids I love you and I care about you. And I told her I was so sorry for dropping out of her life for the past two years, and in return she offered grace and understanding. Some bonds aren’t meant to be broken.

She told me it was okay if Ellamae didn’t remember her, and I told her that nothing could be further from the truth. Ellamae asks about them so often and sometimes asks me if I remember them. She never forgot them and she never will. Because some bonds aren’t meant to be broken.

When the kids got home later that night, Ellamae climbed into my lap and cried because she was already missing Rhea. I promised her that this time it wouldn’t be as long before we saw her again. And she fell asleep with the remnants of the s’mores they had eaten together around the fire still on her tear-stained cheeks. Grace climbed into my bed too, tears pooling in her eyes from missing Rhea too. And tears from the years that she felt had been taken away from her during my last marriage. Tears from missing her sisters for the last two years. Tears for all the changes that had happened. Tears for the pain of the fall and the struggle of the rise. She curled up next to me, knees to her chest, head in the crook of my arm like she used to do when she was little. And we cried together. We just let the grief spill out of our hearts and wash over us.

But you know what? It’s okay, because even though it had been two years, we found each other again because some bonds can’t be broken.

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