Tears..All kinds.

There are all kinds of tears.  I know.  I'm a woman--I think there is hardly a kind of tear I haven't cried.

We got home from our getaway, which I was unplugged for.  I haven't even looked on anything on the internet until this afternoon, my phone didn't get service, I actually used very little of my e-reader.  I was very truly unplugged.

It was liberating.

While we were away I gave Kent his gift.  It was a deck of cards with a reason why I loved him on each one.  The first was a cover that said "52 reasons why I love you."  I knew there would be tears.  And there were.  When I gave the gift to Kent he read each of the reasons out loud.  We both halted and started crying at this one:  "You even loved my bald head."

And he did.  He really did.  More so than I did.  Losing my hair didn't bother me, I thought of it as part of the journey, but I didn't realize how it was going to affect other people.

As Kent read my list of reasons, I started to cry.  I am unbelievable blessed to have such an amazing man as my husband.

This week, I had a panic cry.  The one that came after my brother Michael found me on Facebook.  I am  resolved not to have that part of the family in my life without protecting my own little family first.

So tonight, I had the tears that just don't come.  I am sure you know what I mean..the lump in the throat the gag reflex, the sick to my stomach, but tears that just don't come.

You see, my brother doesn't know how facebook works, but I do.  So I did a little creeping....I looked on his facebook and there is my biological mother, one of his friends.  I haven't been privy to her or my sisters life for about 15 years.  They asked me to stay out--so I have.

Then I looked at her list of friends...and there it is.  She won't have me in her life, but the pedophile who raped me repeatedly and broke my sister's jaw attempting to have her perform oral sex on him....is in her friends list.

Gag reflex, sick to my stomach, and the tears that just won't come.

Again, I feel the best course of action is just not to allow them into my life.  They are a mixed up, broken mess of life....and my mother would say I was lying, I am the degenerate, I am the one who is disgusting and screwed up.

I am sitting here in my living room, thankful that I no longer have to be a part of that mess.  Thankful is probably not strong enough of a word.

But I am completely thankful, for Kent, for my little family of Max, Melissa and Jonathan, (and Jamie, Erik and Carl).  I am super thankful for the freedom that I live my daily life in...In all things I can say, God is good.  He really, really is.