The Vigil continues.

I am the observer watching, waiting, comforting, loving and holding her, my infant self.

It is no longer January 13th, 1968.

Now, you are safe in my care.

 

In many ways little Judy mothered me until…

Until I was strong enough to listen to her story, feel it completely and know it intimately.

Until I was confident enough to put words and voice together so her experience could be heard.

Until I became Jude, the me that was inside hidden under the layers of trauma narratives I lived with and by.

Until Jude no longer needed the protection that came from this beautiful sweet little victimized infant because Jude is not a victim.

 

For the last 5 years, I have been mothering her and other parts of me. Searching for them, calling them home and pouring into these wounded parts unconditional and unwavering love. I nourished and nurtured them until they could trust that I would not abandon them.

One by one, they came Home.

Little Judy is the last one

And she is fading fast.

 

Forever a part of me, but no longer needing to defend me or prevent rejection and fear.

She can come Home and rest. She can lay her trauma garments aside and wear my skin.

 

Even now a little voice whispers, can you truly be free?

The answer is, “yes”.

If I allow it, if I let go of these last vestiges of trauma narrative.

 

We have been together so long, I wonder, “who I am without her/this?”

I have been slowly becoming for so many years now; decades.

I can feel the nearness of this transition.

And yet, I am lacking the clarity I hope for.

I must say “goodbye” and release the old to create space for the new.

It always requires a leap of faith, a step into the darkness of the unknown.

Trust.

I must trust myself and Life.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

 

I hold Judy softly, but tightly and whisper, “it is ok now, we are ok now, you can let go.”

She stirs against me.

“Am I ready? 

As ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

I have begun to feel whole in my bones.

I am whole.

My trauma bound identity of “adoptee” is fading away.

I am just Jude and that feels exquisite, sublime, expansive.

 

For now, I continue to sit vigil.

Holding myself tenderly.

Time is moving swiftly.

I wonder what it will feel like?

How will I know when she is released completely?

I will know. I will feel the void.

And I will sit in that void alone and mourn and rejoice.

Like all partings there is sorrow, but it will be mixed with the beautiful mystery of knowing that she is not gone; she has only changed form.

 

Thank you to those who read and witnessed my story of transmuting these last bits of my early life trauma.

I am sure many cannot fully understand, for few walk the same path.

That is ok.

This is my journey, my vigil and my transformation.

I appreciate being supported, even if you do not comprehend my experience.

 

Those who witness are walking me Home. Thank you.