a bridge

Today it felt like I took that last step off the bridge.  I looked back, at all of the beams that made up the bridge that I’ve been walking across.

When I placed my foot on the first beam, I was 22. Young, free, and ready to take on the world. I was in college, learning and loving the knowledge that was pouring in.

I didn’t even realize that I was on a bridge.

Moving forward a few more beams… college graduation, marriage, and my first child.

I stood on the edge of the bridge at that point and looked back often. Everything happened so quickly, I kept trying to figure out how I got there.

I fell a few times and relied on myself to get back up.

Another child, a few more years of marriage, a few more beams under foot.

I quickly felt exhausted.

I never looked up, I just kept waking alone. I thought I had to use my own strength for my kids.

More beams, more years of marriage, two more children. Devastating news. The beans crumbled.

All of a sudden, the plank I was standing on disintegrated. I grabbed the metal rail that paved my face as I fell.

I was barely hanging on, my fingers were slipping, and my children were clinging to me.

Instead of crying out for help, I climbed back up somehow and walked back to where I started, numb.

My children were still clinging to me as I walked the beams. They were afraid to let go. They were afraid of everything.

I filed for divorce.

My children and I lived with my parents during the divorce. We were still on the bridge, stuck on the first steps. We kept crossing the same beam over and over, stuck in the same place for several years.

I was exhausted and they were very heavy.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but the bridge was being repaired as we stood there holding on to each other. The planks were being placed before us, and they were stronger than before.

I also didn’t know who was carrying me the next several planks in the right direction.

We bought a house and became our own family.

My children started letting go of me and they even started to breathe on their own.

I watched them run, jump, and even skip ahead of me at times on that bridge. I cherished their laughter as it made an imprint on my heart and remained in my ears.

They reached the end of the bridge, leapt off, and looked back at me, smiling as they waved and ran out into their future.

For the first time in ten years, I looked up.

Instantly, my feet moved forward… plank by plank, and found their way.

Fear was behind me.

I felt a presence, daily, walking alongside me. I felt a love I never knew. I felt an embrace that gave me the strength to move forward, toward the end of the bridge.

I looked back, often, and I saw peace.

I took that last step off the bridge today.

I left the pain behind, and I decided to never let go of the arms that carried me across the broken planks.