I was freed on a Saturday, but didn't find my way online for a couple of days. I jumped in, the way I do when I am comfortable somewhere- and I'm comfortable here. I live on the internet. I know these waters, no matter how dark or treacherous they may seem to others.
I poured through blogs and websites, all at once. Everything is fine, I thought. I am home and it's as if nothing ever happened.
... And then I stumbled on a picture of daughter.
Emily was an established blogger before I even started and though we were friendly-at-first-like, we never really moved the friendship to a deeper stage. I followed her tales of motherhood the way someone with no children does, at a lovingly lighthearted distance
But that day, I stared at the picture until I started crying. Until I was sob-wracked and howling, soaking my keyboard with tears. The loss was debilitating. The time lapse was horrifying.
I missed over a year. Of life. A little girl completely bloomed into a human being of sunlight and love, from the seedling of mischief and moonlight she was when I left.
I had waited and waited to come home, only to realize that I wasn't ready for it- and home moved on without me.
The screen flipped to a picture of Emily, smiling her trademark grin, and I knew she'd understand.
The waiting.
Turns out, it's really not the hardest part.
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A true story, and an example of a Sonder File. Lives intersect in strange ways, and sometimes the sun in a neighbor's story shines a light into your own.
I'm collecting tales where the peripheral of me snuck its way into someone else's story. You can read more about what that means by visiting my early morning post here.
Do you know Emily? If not, stop by her world and say hey. Believe me, you want to know her.
