Memories

After sorting through a bunch of my birth mom's possessions on Saturday, I came to the conclusion that memories (no matter how delightful or painful) are valuable.  They make our lives rich and remind us how far we've come. They remind us who we are. 

I've come to a place of healing, where I've let Christ into the deepest parts of me.  Memories that were too painful to behold and that darkly overshadowed the pleasantries of my youth, now provide me with a sort of bittersweet thankfulness.  My biological mother and older brother are gone from my life, but not from my heart.  I miss them, but they are part of me.