Is It Destiny?

I hung up the phone and wondered, “Why did they all leave home so soon? Was it because I was a single mother? Was it our destiny?” We all love each other so much, and yet life hasn’t allowed for us to have that traditional family.

Monique left at age 17. It was her senior year of high school. I remember the heartbreak and devastation I felt. She felt as though I was too strict and harsh, and living with her father’s parents offered her the opportunity at what she thought was going to be unrestricted access to freedom and peace. Chasity left at age 17. It was her senior year also, and I felt my heart break once again, and began to wonder if I was really that much of a horrid mother. She left to live with her boyfriend who was out on his own at age 17, and I’m sure that seemed so much better than staying with me through the unending transitions of single parenthood. And finally, Ciara left at age 14. She went to live with Chasity back home in the safety of the small town.  Even though my mind tells me it was the best thing for her, my heart said, “There just went my last baby, and I want to curl up, cry, sleep, and shut the world out. There’s no more pieces left of my heart…it’s all gone.”

As I lay on the bed pretending to watch the news, I realize just how rough they have all had it, and I wonder how they are all doing so great. They have all turned out to be such good people and love living in that small town I used to call home. Home pulls my soul back every single day. It tugs at it for my children and family but nothing else. A part of me died there, and no matter how much I want to go back, I realize that I just can’t. My body physically hurts at the thought of trying to make a life there again. When Charles died it was the straw…that last straw that broke the camel’s back, or in our case, it broke that so called camel (our family) to pieces.  None of us would ever be the same again. Not with each other, not with anyone else, and ultimately not within our own minds and spirits.

The news is chatting something about the most recent body found in a mass grave, and I think “I must be crazy to live in this crime ridden city! Eh, where else am I going to go? I don’t have a home anymore. I mean a home like I used to anyway.” Chris comes in and gives me a kiss on my forehead, and says, “I love you baby.” I tell him I love him back, and I realize that this is my home. I just miss my kids so much.  We talk more now than we ever did, and we are finally able to really show our love to each other.  We aren’t the same, but we are closer.

It’s been years since I moved, and years since his death, but I still think about these things at least once a day. About Monique, Chasity, and Ciara and the reasons they left, about how wonderful they are, about Charles’ death, about the pain it caused, about whether I could have prevented his suicide, and about how everyone appears so happy despite the tragedies we’ve all experienced. And I wonder whether we all have our fixed destiny. I wonder if things really do happen for a reason.

As I doze into a peaceful sleep, I embrace the thought of my destiny, and I hope that my dreams will bring me the reasons, so my soul can finally move on.