Love Under Will Part 2

How many times had she bathed her self? Fed herself….put herself to bed…..did homework without help? How many times had she tried to wake me up……thinking I was dead?

After wrapping her in a towel and sending her off to find pajamas, I looked in the bathroom mirror and I knew one thing: I was powerless over drugs and alcohol. For years the postman had tried to deliver this message, but I kept refusing to sign for it. "Nope not mine….You must have the wrong house." I had a litany of excuses for my using, but that night in the bathroom I gave them up and focused on the only reason I needed to quit. My child played the trump card my addiction never saw coming. "You mean…. people like you."

And still she loves me, encouraging me through every step of my recovery and granting me undeserved forgiveness; she has shown me what grace looks like. So happy and resilient, so compassionate and beautiful…..she taught me that life is a gift…not an obligation.

She will be twelve in two weeks. She doesn’t really want me to bathe her these days, but sometimes…..she lets me help.

I love you Little Scholar.