helping a stranger

A few months ago, I dropped an envelope in the mailbox - the envelope with no return address, with a decent amount of cash - an envelope with the small note of 'please use this for your adoption fund' - but nothing else ... The moment I dropped it into the mailbox, I got emotional and started to cry.

It is something I wanted to do - I want to support this family. If people could read the words she wrote, you'd be inspired enough to do the same. She reminded me so much of one of the people I hurt, so many of her words sounded the same - so much of her heart was the same. It feels so similar, although I know it's not the same at all. I look at this woman, wonder how on earth I could have hurt someone like this. I look at the tears in her eyes, the pain and 'want' in her heart ... she's so vulnerable and innocent - I hurt someone like that.

The moment I put the envelope in, I thought of the person I hurt. I imagined in my mind so many times, what it would be like to meet with her again. The last time I saw her was more than a few years ago. In just a few short months, the calendar pages will turn and it will be the 'anniversary' of when all the court proceedings started. Another year will pass.

A few years ago, I forced someone to be in my life ... someone that I didn't know prior, but that will be connected to my life forever. I'm not sure what she thinks about this, but I assume she's moved on a bit further than I have.

I try to imagine her face and what she thinks at this point. I try to imagine meeting up with her and hearing how things have been for her. I am not fearful but I am curious. I don't believe she ended up adopting - for that, I will always regret what I did, although I had no control over the future for her.

I haven't written her letter, although I don't intend for it to be long ... just a few short words and asking if we can meet up and have a chat at a local coffee shop. But thinking about this reminds me of the time we were supposed to meet up long ago. I passed by her in the restroom, she didn't know it was me.

I'm not sure what I want out of this - perhaps closure ... because my heart still hurts for what I've done. I had a small period of time after my 'free' day that I was happier than I would have ever been able to imagine prior. It feels like I’ve come off of that 'high' and getting back onto firm ground. However my ground is not nearly as firm as I thought it was, it's a bit wobbly and cracked.

I'm not sure that if I spoke with her - my ground would be straight and flat. But I'm thinking it might be.