I squeeze my eyes shut even harder, vaguely recalling the white house from somewhere deep within my mind. “Yes.”
“Good. Now envision everything about that day how you remember it in your mind and go find her. Talk to her. Tell her how strong she is. Tell her how beautiful and strong she is. Tell her everything she needs to hear from you, Sky. Everything you wish you could have told yourself that day.”
I clear my mind and go with his suggestion. I envision myself as I am now and what would be happening if I actually drove up to that house. I would more than likely be wearing my sundress with my hair pulled back into a ponytail since it’s so hot. It’s almost as if I can feel the sun beating down through the windshield, warming my skin again.
I make myself step out of my car. I walk across the street and reluctantly head toward the house. My heart immediately speeds up because I’m nervous. I’m not sure that I want to see her, but I do what Holder suggests and I keep walking forward so that I can talk to her. As soon as the side of the house is in view, she’s there. Hope is sitting in the grass with her arms folded over her knees. She’s crying into them and it completely shatters my heart.
I slowly walk up to her and pause, then tentatively lower myself to the ground, unable to take my eyes off of this fragile little girl. When I’m situated on the grass directly in front of her, she lifts her head from her folded arms and looks up at me. When she does, my soul crumbles because the look in her dark brown eyes is lifeless. There’s no happiness there at all. I try to smile at her though, because I don’t want her to see how much her pain is hurting me.
I slowly stretch my hand out to her, but stop a few inches before I reach her. Her sad brown eyes drop to my fingers and she stares at them. My hands are shaking now and she can see that. Maybe the fact that she can see that I’m also scared helps me gain her trust, because she lifts her head even higher, then unfolds her arms and places her tiny hand in mine.
I’m looking down at the hand of my childhood, holding onto the hand of my present, but all I want to do is hold more than just her hand. I want to grab all of her pain and fear, too, and take it from her.
Remembering the things Holder said I should tell her, I look down at her and clear my throat, squeezing her hand tightly in mine.
“Hope.” She continues to look at me patiently while I dig deep for the courage to speak to her…to tell her everything she needs to know. “Do you know that you’re one of the bravest little girls I’ve ever met?”
She shakes her head and looks down at the grass. “No, I’m not,” she says quietly, convinced in her belief.
I reach out and take her other hand in mine and look her directly in the eyes. “Yes, you are. You’re incredibly brave. And you’re going to make it through this because you have a very strong heart. A heart that is capable of loving so much about life and people in a way you never dreamt a heart could love. And you’re beautiful.” I press my hand to her heart. “In here. Your heart is so beautiful and someday someone is going to love that heart like it deserves to be loved.”
She pulls one of her hands back and wipes her eyes with it. “How do you know all that?”
I lean forward and wrap my arms around her completely. She returns my embrace by putting her arms around me and letting me hold her. I lean my head down and whisper in her ear. “I know, because I’ve been through exactly what you’re going through. I know how bad it hurts your heart that your daddy does this to you, because he did it to me, too. I know how much you hate him for it, but I also know how much you love him because he’s your daddy. And it’s okay, Hope. It’s okay to love the good parts of him because he’s not all bad. It’s also okay to hate those bad parts of him that make you so sad. It’s okay to feel whatever you need to feel. Just promise me that you will never, ever feel guilty. Promise me that you will never blame yourself. It’s not your fault. You’re just a little girl and it’s not your fault that your life is so much harder than it should be. And as much as you’ll want to forget these things ever happened to you and as much as you’ll want to forget this part of your life existed, I need for you to remember.”
I can feel her arms trembling against me now and she’s quietly crying against my chest. Her tears force the release of my own tears. “I want you to remember who you are, despite the bad things that are happening to you. Because those bad things aren’t you. They are just things that happen to you. You need to accept that who you are, and the things that happen to you, are not one and the same.”