So

We flew home out of Salt lake City yesterday (from where we picked up our daughter).  A stormy weather front had been traveling through the area over the past 24 hours and the clouds were low.  As the plane took off and we soared over the Great Salt Lake, there was a brief period where we were just beneath the clouds and they were reflected in the surface of the lake below.  I was listening to my IPod, and just as this heavenly, land-of-the-billowing-clouds sight was completely blowing me away in its awesomeness, Mozart's flute and harp concerto in C major began to play.

I got to see heaven for about 30 seconds complete with harp sound effects. What a gift.  An amazing miraculous gift from above.

And miracles and gifts were the theme of the day. Just that morning we'd been to a ceremony for daughter's graduation from treatment.  Peers, staff, teachers and her therapist got up and spoke about her, during which time I used up every kleenex in Utah. She'd been there long enough to become a role model and an inspiration to others, you see. My little pain in the rear end, Little Miss Colic 1991, the girl who never took no for an answer, the one who could not be in the same room with us without yelling and cursing and running out in a tantrum, rules were meant for everyone but her, the poster child for oppositional defiance disorder, bad attitudes R us central, was inspiring and helping others to change, cooperate, get over it, do the right thing, lose the 'tude and go home to their familes. 

It was my turn to speak, after my husband got up and gave a speech that said all the right things plus made people laugh. Me? I could barely get anything out.  I thanked the staff - but seriously, how does one go about thanking people for giving you back your child?  Are any words enough?  Is there anything you can say that expresses what you feel?  No.  I just got up there and sobbed, basically.  Each one there gave a message to daughter that they wanted her to remember.  All I could choke out between gulps was to beg her to never give up on us, her parents, and that I hoped she knew that we loved her more than the world.  I might have said a couple of other things, I don't remember. I do remember the hug. I'll never forget the hug.

Her team members (peers - the girls she's lived with for the past few months) said such wonderful things to her and about her.  And at the end, a group of them surrounded me and told me that I had made them cry.  And I told them to remember that each one of them had a mother who felt exactly the same way about them, and that as we all went through our daily lives and saw other mothers with their teenaged daughters at the mall and other places, we grieved and missed their presence in our lives beyond belief, that they should never, ever forget that their mothers loved them like no other.

When it was daughter's turn, she went around the room and said something to each person.  Saving her father and I for last, daughter pulled a chair up to face us both. She said that though she'd said it before, she wanted to say it again, that she was sorry for what she'd put us through and that she loved us and was so thankful that we were willing to forgive her.

And there was a pause for just a second, and my husband said, "Ok. Let's go home." And everyone clapped and cheered.

There really are no words to adequately describe it. No words for any of it - the experience, the ending, the hope for the future, nor the niggling worries that remain, the ones I know are necessary ballast to keep my head from staying caught up in the clouds over Salt Lake.  This is real life, not a fairy tale. There will be bumps in the road as daughter makes the transition back home, I know it. But for now, it's about as good as it gets and I am simply happy.

Comments

[Charles]

Gail;

A very hearty cheer to you and your daughter! (and the rest of your family)

YEA!!!!!

[Shirl]

Oh Gail. Now I'm bawling over here. I am soooo happy that things are such that you can create this lovely, heart-warming post. It's been a long road, but you've stayed the course. Fantastic!

[Mark]

This has been an amazing ride, Gail. Thanks for letting us be a part of it.

Glad to hear a happy ending. Maybe the collective good wishes of all of your blog friends had something to do with it, maybe not. But it sure is nice to read this.

[Oceanguy]

Thank you so much for sharing this whole story... at least the basic plot... You have no idea how it's affected others. Your strength through the tough times and your willingness to share it has been a real inspiration.

We're still pulling for you and your family, but I'm so glad it's come to this happy point.

All the best,
jb

[Gail]

I wrote to each of you separately, but I wanted to say it here too: Thank you to those above and the others who have written for your support and encouragement which truly helped me make it through this very difficult time.

[Donna]

I am so pleased and happy for all of you, Gail. You have been a trememdous force in all of this and a touching glimpse for me into what motherhood should be. Thank you for sharing with us. You all will continue to be in my thoughts.

[Gail]

Thank you for the good wishes, Donna. Much appreciated.

[alisa]

Your whole family is an inspiration. Thank you for sharing all you have and best wishes with many prayers for success during the transition time.

[Gail]

Thanks, Alisa. You are more than kind!