in a tiffany box

I need to keep reminding myself the reason we are doing this. That this is what I asked for – what I wanted. This is the beginning of the tides turning. I am safe. All I need to do is believe and trust.

One of the reasons this is so hard is that I have never been good with saying goodbye. When we moved as a kid often it happened so fast that there simply wasn’t time. The worst was when we “escaped” from my father. He was working as a night watchman for the city of Chico. When my mother learned they were going to give him a gun, she knew we (well, more she) were no longer safe.

My sister and I were told only hours before of her plan. We were to wear clothes under our nightgowns and after our father left for work, we would pack up the car and leave. I still remember popping the screen and tossing all of our stuffed animals from the second story window. In the flurry we left our good school shoes.

That move was the most terrifying. My Mom drove all night to reach Southern California. At one point she pulled into a rest area but was so tired/stressed she bumped a pole. She was also worried that the police were looking for us (technically I suppose you could argue she kidnapped us), so we didn’t stay long.

On some level every move brings up pasts moves. Maybe that is why it is doesn’t get easier – it is more than just extra boxes that we carry.

And on that note I am going to try the angel homework that my friend Ellen shared with me. The idea is to imagine angels at your back gently helping (versus pushing) you do the tasks at hand. No pushy angles allowed.