Sometimes I think about you...

Sometimes I think about you

Wonder if you're out there somewhere thinking 'bout me

And would you even recognize

The woman that your little girl has grown up to be?*

One month ago today I got an email from a woman I remember as a child. She's a grandmother now. Her father was my second (and last and best, I always point out) husband. I saw her a few times when we first married, but then we moved away, then she moved away with her mother, and our paths never crossed again.

'Cause I look in the mirror and all I see

Are your brown eyes looking back at me

They're the only thing you ever gave to me at all*

Her brother lived with us when he was in high school and for a short time after that. He moved out as soon as he was old enough to make it on his own, and then, a few years later, their father and I divorced. I only had one phone call from her brother after that.

Oh, I hear the weather's nice in California

There's sunny skies as far as I can see

If you ever come back home to Carolina

I wonder what you'd say to me*

I stayed in touch with the rest of my husband's family until he remarried, then backed out of the picture so his new wife wouldn't have to share her warm and wonderful in-laws with me. In doing so, I let people slip away from me whom I loved and respected and thought I would know always.

I think about how it ain't fair

That you weren't there to braid my hair like mothers do

You weren't around to cheer me on

Help me dress for my high school prom like mothers do*

My former husband passed away in 2003. His son died three years later. The only things that connected me to his family after that were the memories my daughters and I shared of the time we spent with them and, also, the family name. I still have that.

Did you think I didn't need you here

To hold my hand, to dry my tears

Did you even miss me through the years at all?*

The little girl I remember so well, the grown-up woman who found my daughter's website, a link to my blog, and then the courage to send a message to a virtual stranger, has started something special. It began with correspondence between her, me, and our daughters. We wondered about her aunt on her father's side, so we reached out on Facebook and found her aunt, her first cousin, and the husbands and kids that belong to each of them. We wondered about her brother's child, also lost to the family through divorce and all grown up now.  We found her first in a blog and then on Facebook. That child and her mother, who was divorced from the family like I was, have since "friended" us all, and those of us who haven't met them yet are hoping to get to know them.

Oh, I hear the weather's nice in California

There's sunny skies as far as I can see

If you ever come back home to Carolina

I wonder what you'd say to me*

We are individual threads of a tapestry called family, unraveled by time and distance, by death and divorce. As adult women now, we are reweaving ourselves into a different sort of family. We are building trust, asking questions, sharing knowledge, fitting the stories of our lives together so that they all make more sense.

Forgiveness is such a simple word

But it's so hard to do when you've been hurt*

I'm writing about this not only because the experience has been so meaningful to me, but because I want to share with you some words that have been repeated several times, from several sources, as we've made these reconnections: "I'm so happy to hear from you," and, "I  never thought anyone cared."

Oh, I hear the weather's nice in Callifornia

And just in case you're wondering about me

From now on I won't be in Carolina

Your little girl is off, your little girl is off

Your little girl is off to Tennessee*

The happy news is that we all cared.  The sad part is that nobody did anything about it.

Sometimes I think about you

Wonder if you're out there somewhere thinking 'bout me*

Unlike the singer of the lyrics quoted above, none of the women in this newly reunited family group is wondering quite so much anymore. I'm so grateful that one little girl grew up and reached out.

*From the song "I Wonder" by Kellie Pickler.