There’s a stack of packed boxes that’s been sitting in the garage for days, and a bag of last-minute essentials at the top of the stairs. Both have this sense of finality radiating off of them every time I see them.
And when I do, I remind myself that this isn’t the usual ‘family clutter’.
No, this is closure.
Which feels strange lately. To call it surreal would be an understatement.
You see, after two and a half years of a contentious custody battle, it's over.
The younger of the two kids will be heading to her new home in a matter of days, and I couldn't be happier.
That still feels weird to say out loud. But it’s right. It’s what we’ve been working toward, and what we’ve all, in our own way, had to grow into.
Not that that makes this easy.
Reunification’s supposed to be this “happy ending,” right? It's not, though. There was no group hug or anything like that.
More like: we did what we needed to do. Now we hand over the reins and collapse into bed for a week.
From the start, we knew this might be the goal if it was safe and stable. Now that it's here, I'm relieved.
Exhausted, but relieved.
The child wants this. Her mom wants this. And maybe now they actually have a real shot at figuring each other out—who they are now and not who they were when everything went to shit.
She and I were never the most natural fit, but I was there to provide stability, and I did that.
She's still the same kid, strong-willed and all. Some things are calmer now, some things are still in the process.
She thinks fast, always has. Everything is a calculation; give her a rule, and she'll find a loophole. Give her a choice, and she'll counter before you finish speaking.
It's not a bad thing; that's just how she works, and it used to drive me nuts until I realized it's how she learned to function in an unstable environment.
That hasn't changed.
Either way, that kind of mentality, used in the right direction, is going to make her unstoppable.
That didn't stop me from sometimes questioning absolutely everything.
Even the nights I lay awake in bed, wondering if we were making an impact at all.
And dear God, there were many.
