Bitter tears burn my face.

This child. The one I held for the first time when she was about 3 months old. Fed and rocked her every two hours at night while she was still adjusting to life in the world. Changed her diapers. Fought her to take medicine when she was sick. Made sure homework and projects got done and AR books got read. Made her PBJ sammiches - cut "in triangles". Fixed hair for pictures. Dropped off. Picked up. Volunteered. Took to Dr and Dentist appts. Fixed boo-boos. Played toothfairy and Santa for.

She graduated high school on Sunday. And as the principal announced her name as honor student and parents were named....no mention of me. Surprised? No. Hurt? More than a heart should. But I suppose my one decision wiped away all of the rest of the years in their minds. 15 years - gone. I sat there, the enemy, in a gym filled to the brim of non-carers. Only 3 of us existed. The girl. Her father. Myself. I blinked and breathed. And tried to fight the urge to create a scene by stomping out right then. I took a few more pictures and acted proud and happy. But I was dying. The ceremony ended and I high-tailed it outta there. Bawling as soon as I hit the fresh air. And I didn't stop. I drove to the hall where my other daughter said the party was (I wasn't invited) and dropped her gift off in the foyer. Noone was there (Thank God) since the ceremony had literally just ended. The irony in all this is that part of her gift was a heart necklace that said daughter.

She will be 18 in a week or so. I wonder if she is expecting a gift.....and if she will finally start thinking for herself? My most haunting thought is "what if?" What if I MADE things different? What if he did? Mind you, this child did not ever really LIKE me. She knew that I was not her biological Mom from very early on (thanks to her close-to-psychotic grandmother). And she reminded me often. She did not want me there. Then when I left, she didn't want that either. I am the adult. The weight rested on my shoulders to figure out how to make it work. I tried. I did. Ya know who didn't try? ANYONE else. Not her or the adults around her. Not a single one of them probably even thought of how hurtful it is that they left me out. Not a single one of them knows how she will text me and have normal conversations and then not speak to me again for two months. None of them know how I really feel. And, frankly, they don't give a shit. This does make me more aware of who the people I called family are. People that are closed-minded, small people. Stuck in their own world. Willing to look past what they know to be true because they love holding a grudge more than being happy. Good for you. Let that poison eat you.

I may cry each day for the next month, but eventually time will ease the sting of this slap. Whether she decides to accept me for who I am or not, I will go on living. The sun rises. The sun sets.

And my heart beats.....