Today, imagine you work in a place where you manage lost or forgotten items. What might you find in the pile? For those participating in our serial challenge, reflect on the theme of “lost and found,” too.
I once was lost, but now am found, was blind, but now I see.
Seems to be pretty easy, or not, to look back 54 or 55 years and have more clarity. Felt lost most of my life. Shortly visiting my grandmother in my head, for Serial Killer II, helped me to remember that I was also found.
Great credit belongs to Hoot. She had wisdom. She knew I wasn’t treated the way I should have been, and she didn’t need to “make up for it” she just felt it. Hoot was abusive to her oldest daughter – that was long before she was “hoot.” Maybe she recognized herself in her youngest daughter’s parenting style. Wish I could ask her now. But I also think that the relationship between parent and child and that of a grandparent and grandchild are so very different.
My preteen and teen years sucked. I cut. I picked. I lined pills up on counters. I staged suicide scenes. I privately attempted many times to die. My twenties weren’t much better. Hoot died 3 days after my 25th birthday. Her mind went several years before. BUT, I still credit my relationship with Hoot to still walking and talking today.
Lost and found? Maybe I am. Maybe I am not. But I’m still here. My kids are glad.