Yesterday both girls got into a discussion about their past. Jackie claimed being the first to experience poverty. Because Ivy was not even born yet.
There was a combination of hearing their heart and thought process while aligning the truth that provides a strong foothold in reality.
Jackie was distressed that she doesn’t remember anymore. She says whatever memories she is accessing she feels that they are self induced. But she asked if the birth mom is still alive. I responded honestly that I don’t know, but last time I heard about her she was alive.
Maybe prompted by this conversation, Ivy said her birth mom is dead. “How do you figure?” I ask. She responded as a matter of fact, that their birth mom took care of them while she was able, the best she could, and then her foster mom stepped in, and the birth mom died. It’s the first time I hear this from her and I thought it was metaphorical, Like she needed a mental but good enough reason to separate from her. Curious about her thought process I press on. So Ivy develops the story saying the bio mom was shot. Like with a gun. By bad people who steal cars. And that is that.
We talked about poverty as a reality of this world. And kids who are going to bed hungry, go to bed as in fall asleep, because many don’t have a proper bed. To which they both respond in unison: “we were like that.”
I had told Jackie, when discussing the importance of truth telling, that God is Truth, and that out bond is strong on the foundation of truth. I said I have never lied to her and I never will. Telling her the truth, according to her age appropriate ability to Grasp it, is of the utmost important for me. She tends to tell me white lies. Little lies, a gateway to bigger lies. I told her I was told protective lies as a kid and they were very painful for me. Because I understood more than the adults gave me credit, and they made decisions for me, while not wanting to deal with my possible uncomfortable response. My commitment to the Truth may stem from past hurt, so I told j to not take it for granted because she is not experiencing the betrayal of lies at this stage.
Both my daughters are evidently confident and settled and brave, as we treat them with respect and trust them enough to include them in our decisions and conversations pertaining to them.
Occasionally they overestimated their reach, budding into all my adult conversations. And that has been annoying because they couldn’t distinguish between the conversations they can contribute and those they only interrupt. But yesterday, finally they have allowed the adults to carry on without any interruptions. I have corrected them in the past, when appropriate, even in front of other adults, friends. I have also adapted, adjusted, had ulterior conversations. Often it felt in vain, and that they will never get it. But something clicked, and we met halfway, while giving them some space they didn’t overreach. Thank god for small wins, thank god for the gift of words. Thank God for the Truth that He is, and this in itself is a point of authority as the girls strive to speak the truth in earnest, and pray for courage to be truthful.
They started praying every night this week, thanking God for everything I do, and all my effort. I feel seen. Not sure what prompted this overflowing gratitude, but I take it, I enjoy it deeply.