Through Clouded Glass

Begin Again

I sat alone for a long time just thinking, occupying myself with my thoughts, which is quite possibly one of the most dangerous things I could do.

Sitting there in the silence, I realized that I was no longer angry or afraid for myself. I was afraid to leave my family.

Braiden and Ginger could fare well enough without me, sure. We would still spend time together, that I knew, but at least they could handle my not being there. But what about the little ones? All of the young girls and boys here who looked up to me?

Peter and Matty love me. I am their big sister. They told me I was their hero. What had I done to be so honored with that title? It takes a great deal more to earn the respect and trust of intelligent youth compared to that of adults. And I had done that. I couldn't leave that behind.

I wasn't even afraid of starting over. This wasn't just moving schools or meeting someone new. This was leaving my old life with nothing but memories and starting anew with something I had no clue existed. I always thought it inspiring to embrace the unknown, to exist in the mystery and excite with the discovery, inspire with the adventure.

But this was a whole new adventure. At the orphanage, I would spend my days wondering what might happen next, so unsure of where life would take me with my most fragile of circumstances. All of us here at the orphanage are walking tragedies. We're epiphanies and miracles waiting to occur. We are strong in our pain and courageous in our suffering.

I think that is something we all need to remember. Each and every one of us is fighting a war, but we're all fighting together. No man left behind, no one forgotten. When one of us leaves, we're still fighting right there with them, every day. And that magnificent bond can never be broken.

I've seen many come and go, but the person to leave has never been me.

When I look around and see all these children, all left with less innocence and a gaping hole in their very essence, and I see them smiling, I can't help but be absolutely astounded. Everyone is welcome here. There are open arms to strangers and therapy to the broken. We mend each others' hearts and warm their souls. What a special love we have.

I guess my point is that I will never actually be finding my "real" home. This is my home. This is the family I choose. Always. I will visit all the time, and be welcomed fully every time.

This orphanage isn't just a part of life. It's a part of me, a part of all of us. We're not orphans. We have a family. Because in the end, no matter what, we always have each other.

I went downstairs for the first time since my moment with Charlotte, seeking out a special few people who needed to be aware first. It wouldn't be fair to them to not let them know.

I wanted to be strong for them, but that would be no easy task.

Peter and Matty were adorned in masks and capes, (underwear over pajamas, in case you were wondering), and were running through a blanket fort that had clearly taken a lot of effort. (Yours truly had taught them how to build the most grand of palaces out of the highest quality blankets our royal closet had to offer). Time seemed to slow to a crawl, and my mind began to race.

The inseparable duo, the superhero squad, the team of heroes. . .the little boys who would grow up side by side and raise families together in adjacent houses, always there if the other one ever needed them, just like it had been and forever will be.

I tasted a metallic, wet saltiness and realized that slow, quiet tears had begun to leak from my eyes. It was inevitable that I would cry as I came to the ultimate conclusion that even they too would grow up. They would have families, and their children would play in the tall grasses of their conjoined yards, watching in wonder as their parents laugh and drink sweet tea with lemon from glasses collecting condensation in the heat of a sweltering summer day.