Our family has been dealing with my daughter’s dysfunctional behavior for a decade now, since her 6th grade year.

I started weaving my grief quilt that summer after 6th grade. That first quilt square was really more of worry than of grief. There were a few dark threads of concern but most of the threads were still the bright sunshine colors of a rosy future. Sure, she stole from us to buy snacks at school, sure she had taken things in the past and lied but kids will do that at times. The certainty that we could “fix” the problem with counseling and love was still the predominant theme. I tucked that tiny first quilt scrap deep into the pocket of my subconscious and focused on the positive aspects of my daughter…after all, she was the best soccer player on her team…in my unbiased opinion at least. She had terrific friends on that team, she was outgoing and energetic, life will be fine.

Before long, we realized the main issue was the stealing and the minor issue was the junk food. I found myself adding to my quilt in gray tones of anxiety along with the brighter colors of the fun of life as a family of seven. I was determined to prevail and turn her behavior however I now knew the road would be longer. Very few people outside of our immediate family knew. I worried before falling asleep, I worried freely when I drove around town. My grief quilt was larger now but I continued to push it deep down in my pocket and smiled at friends and neighbors. I didn’t want them to know. My daughter would be ok soon and then I knew our family would get back to the way we used to be.

Months then years went by. My daughter stole from neighbors then church and from houses when she babysat. Every time we caught her I would weave another square. Darker and darker threads of grief. Black. All black. It overflowed out of my pocket; I didn’t know I was trailing it on the ground behind me. Finally, I just wrapped my quilt of grief around me like a shawl. I felt that no one could understand the depth of my pain. I withdrew from friends. I stopped sending out the newsy humorous Christmas letters that I used to love to write. If I saw a parent from my daughter’s former soccer team, I would go the other way to avoid talking.

We sent my daughter to an excellent residential treatment facility specializing in adoption and attachment issues. She was gone just under a year and a half and came home just before her Junior year of high school. I dared to weave some bright colors of hope. Then crushed hope…promiscuity, worse stealing, pathological lying. I threw away the bright threads.

Even after we kicked my daughter out of the house after high school, the pain continued. We hoped making her leave would shock her into going straight. Her behavior became more and more that of a criminal and she caused harm to a caring family that took her in both before and after she became pregnant with her first baby girl. My dark quilt pieces became filled with crimson threads of anger then rage that she would hurt good people. Those feelings eventually turned into green-black bitterness. Why me. Why our family? Why God, why?

I yelled at God, “I have loved You. My husband and I loved each other. We tried to teach our kids right from wrong. How could You let this awful pain into our lives?”

I kicked and screamed and screamed some more at God, all the while with my quilt of grief wrapped tightly around me. It was so large that at some point I put it over my head. I only wanted to sit in the darkness under it and be left alone. Finally I was too exhausted to scream anymore and over the span of a few months I felt God whisper to me to set my bitter, awful, dark quilt aside. I said I can’t. I will die. This is all I have left. I felt God ask me whether I was going to be bitter the rest of my life. I finally realized I had a choice. Very slowly, as I started blogging, I took off and set aside that grief quilt that had been my focus for too long.

I have come to realize something. If I look hard enough, in the worst of situations there is joy to be found. I have to be willing to look.

My daughter’s soccer teammates from years past will be graduating college this May. A couple of weeks ago my husband and I were hiking and ran into the parents of twins from the team. One twin just got accepted to Pharmacy school for a graduate program. The other daughter is graduating with an impressive sounding degree. We talked about any topic but our daughter and I thought…if you only knew. She just delivered her third baby. She goes to trial for her third court case. She has a warrant out for her arrest in two states.

Then as we continued our hike I thought, “Yes there is a pang of grief at comparing our girls but I’m going to choose to let it go. The other 4 kids are great kids. My husband is here with me, the sun is shining and we are enjoying our hike.”

I have recently found out more about my daughter’s criminal behavior since moving to another state two years ago. I have also learned about and met the two precious girls my daughter gave birth to in that state. As the months ahead unfold in 2016, I am going to have to keep reminding myself that every day I make a choice whether to dwell on the “good” or the “not so good” in life.