*
When she was a baby we called her “The Wild Woman of Borneo”
You could not keep clothes on her.
You could not keep her clean.
She would start screaming and we’d load her into the stroller and walk the wide, flat, florida beaches for hours until she’d finally pass out.
*
She has not changed.
*
She knows no fear, feeds on evil, and is hell bent for leather.
*
You are allowed to try to raise them right. You are allowed to know you failed. You are not allowed to know how you did it wrong. You are not allowed to know what might help.
You may despair.
You may rend your garments.
You may gnash your teeth.
You may wail.
You may yet hope.
*
May you be safe.
May you be at peace.
May you be happy.
***
The Dishwasher's Tears 
My god she's beautiful. She's so freaking alive.
it sounds like you are saying you don't know where she is. or that's she's somewhere, physically or emotionally shitty, that you can't 'save' her from. and i am sorry. because that is the heart ripped out of you. i have only touched on that dark edge with my son and felt fear in my very bones.
i know about this.
hang onto hope.
What a beautiful child she was.
You know too much about what can happen…
and ….
what?
what can a person say?????
you know about as much about advice as can be known.
O, we all screw up with our kids. I could tell you stories.
Please don't beat up on yourself! It's the way your daughter is wired
I was her, you know. Once. I was her.
love,
Rebecca
I remember her, in many differnt faces, many differnt places