Blog title image credit: Stockvault “American Justice Illustration” licensed under Public Domain CCO

I should be at work but have taken the day off as part of a plan to get through a difficult day, like mentally preparing for the labor of delivering a baby. Labor is not at all fun but breathing through it helps a lot. At the end of labor, there is that adorable baby that arrives which makes it all worth it. In this current situation of my daughter’s sentencing today (in another state), there is no upside except that society will be protected and justice served for the victim. My way of breathing through this difficult day is to blog.

My daughter’s sentencing was supposed to be Friday; however, it was moved to today so is perhaps unfolding even as I type this blog. I do not expect to find out details until the sentence is posted online tomorrow, unless the victim is told sooner, lets his parents know who then let us know. It is an awkward collaboration between us and the victim’s parents. We supported the parents a year ago as they encouraged their son to press charges. Though we have never talked directly with the son, we understand that he was traumatized by our daughter’s actions. Pressing charges was a way to help the son move from victimization to control over what happened to him.

Picryl “birthday-cake-candles 572398” licensed under Public Domain CCO

Although I am taking time today to grieve the necessity of my daughter’s prison sentencing, today is significant in my life for another reason. I became a mom for the first time 36 years ago today. Today is my oldest son’s birthday. I could not be prouder to be his mom. He is an exceptional son, husband, father and police officer.

By the time the sentencing date was posted, I had already committed that date to babysitting out of state. My daughter-in-law had planned a birthday getaway for my son. It was just as well; playing with grandkids was a better way to spend my time rather than the stress of sitting in a courtroom while the judge handed down a prison sentence.

This past weekend, my husband and I happily immersed ourselves in taking care of a baby and a toddler; lots of diapers and bottles. It was hectic but was a lot of fun as well and we were glad to be able to give the parents a break. There was no time to think about my daughter’s upcoming sentencing, a good thing. It was only when we flew back home last night that I started to think about today.

My plan is to feel whatever it is that I need to feel and then let it go, like breathing through the pain of labor. Feel it, breathe through it, let it go.

I did my usual early morning walk today with my husband and then, because I was still a bit sleep deprived from early morning bottle feedings over the weekend, I went back to bed and slept a bit more. I woke up more rested and ready to face the day.

I am sitting in a coffee shop now with my oatmilk latte while I type. Lattes don’t fix everything that goes wrong in life, but I have to say they help a little bit. The blueberry scone helps too…just for today, because I am in need of comfort.

This is what I grieve most about my daughter; not who she is now but the potential she had as a baby. When I held her for the first time in Korea, and kissed her cheek, I wanted the best that life had to offer for her. When I delighted in dressing her in all of those adorable “girlie” clothes and put headbands and bows in her hair, I had such certainty that life would be so great for her. When she was in kindergarten and brought home little craft projects, I saw hope. Why wouldn’t I? When she started soccer at five years old and showed athletic talent from the beginning, I saw only bright potential for her. When she was in third grade and was selected from her class to be part of a group that wrote and illustrated a story (which I still have somewhere), I thought it was wonderful. When she was in fifth grade, she was not only the best soccer player on her team, she was well liked by all her teammates and constantly had play dates with them. She was personable, well liked, athletic, creative and charming. That’s who I grieve for today. That girl that she was; she was supposed to follow a different path.

She should have continued her path of outgoing, social, creative exuberance. She should be living her “best life” now, not sitting right now in a courtroom, dressed in a County Jail issued jumper with shackles at her waist, wrists and ankles. I have that picture of her in my mind from experience; I was there seven years ago at her last sentencing. It was a terrible shock to see her dressed like that. I blogged about it then; here is the link to it.

My daughter made many infinitesimally small choices beginning under the age of ten that started her on the path that led her to this day. In Kindergarten or first grade, at the same time she was bringing home cute little crafts, we can look back and know that she was the one that was stealing from the siblings’ allowance envelopes. When she was in third grade writing and illustrating that story, looking back she also likely was stealing Subway coupons from her teacher’s desk. That was also the year that I caught her lying so many times that I had to stop giving her “I will always tell the truth” sentences because no third grader could write the number sentences she earned. That was the first instance of pathological lying, I just didn’t know it then. It was in sixth grade when her best friend/soccer teammate realized my daughter was constantly telling untruths and made a decision to stop hanging around her.

In the memories of our family, we divide those memories into “before” and “after”. The “before” is before spring of my daughter’s sixth grade year, when we thought we were a normal family. Life changes in an instant sometimes, whether a cancer diagnosis or behavioral issues with a child. Life is never the same after that. It’s like our family as we knew it shattered into pieces. We have glued the pieces back, one by one but the cracks still show.

RawPixel “Double Rainbows and Cloudy Sky in Autumn” licensed under Public Domain CCO

I can’t change what happens during the sentencing. All I can do is to keep breathing and look for little moments that feel special. Last Tuesday, I watched out the kitchen window while my youngest son and my ten-year-old granddaughter played soccer in the backyard, seventeen years apart in age but both having a great time. They were out there for over an hour, both laughing and kicking the ball around. I really wanted to take a picture to preserve the moment but also wanted them to just have their time together uninterrupted, so instead I imprinted that picture in my mind. It was a good evening. Then this past weekend, playing with the two-year-old granddaughter and cuddling the baby, smiling across the room at my husband because we were both exhausted but happy to be there; that was special too.

Today reflects life. In our lives, it is sunny, then it pours…we celebrate, then we are sad…sometimes in the same day. I hurt today. Breathe. I’m trying so hard to stay away from bitterness.