Tuesday, May 18, 2010

The Last Time I Saw My Daughter

I work with kids now. I see kids everyday. I work as an Instructional Assistant in Special Education with fourth and fifth graders. I enjoy it. But some days it makes me really sad.

My daughter was in fifth grade--had just graduated actually, and turned eleven, the last time I saw her.

I see little girls every day at work that remind me of my daughter. Skinny, all legs, with thick chestnut hair. Every little girl of around eleven who was skinny and had that auburn chestnut hair used to remind me of my daughter.

I never thought it would be the last time I saw her. She was going for the weekend with her dad, and I had just taken her to LA to a Hillary Duff concert. I bought her all the stuff: Hillary Duff t-shirt, sweat shirt, purse, because I felt so bad for the pain her dad's and my separation was causing her.

She was upset with me when she left. I think I'd asked her to clean her room and she exploded at me and left in a huff when her dad drove up. She left all the Hillary Duff things behind.

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