Rewritten.

There are scenes seared into memory that I’ve longed to erase....

The afternoon I found out my dad wasn’t who I thought he was.

Screaming into my pillow as we drove away.

Sitting at the patio table, knowing he wasn’t coming back.

All the days we just kept breaking.

All the years of wondering if the pain would ever end.

I've spent the last twelve years finding ways to live a life

Without bumping the scars.

Which is why my handsome husband stood in the kitchen and asked,

"Are you excited?"

After all the pieces fell together to go to Florida.

And I couldn't find an answer for him.

Yes, I wanted to see my friend so badly. 

But was I strong enough to face that pain again?

We talked, and prayed, and left.

Half way through the week he took my hand.

The wind caught his words and flung them deep into my heart. 

"You know.... this wonderful week we are having is only possible

because of the hard times your family went through."

And for the first time in twelve years,

I saw beauty emerge from the ashes.

We went to the same parks. 

We splashed in the same ocean.

We stood under the same giraffe.

And at every place, I remembered the hard.

And at every place, I saw the good that came out of it.

I went carrying a story of pain.

I returned with a story rewritten by hope.