Selanie:

I have struggled for many months, if not a year or more, to compose the first words that I would write to you, and as your birthday approaches (it is September 25, 2007 as I draft this), I have conceded that instead of something more profound or insightful, my first words to you will be “I have struggled for many months….” You will learn soon enough that I think way too much about things, and if that is the only thing I do that disappoints you, then I will consider myself well blessed. Conversely, if you choose to look at it this way, my first word to you was “Selanie”, the name I chose for you over eighteen years ago, and a name I have kept within my heart ever since.

I wax nostalgic fairly easily, by the way. There’s much in my life I could wish I had done differently, or more responsibly, but while I have regretted not being able to be with you and know you all these years, I have never regretted you. I knew before you were born that you would be something far beyond anything I could ever hope or expect, just as I knew that at the time, with the history that lay between your mother and I, that I would not be who she needed me to be for quite some time to come, if ever. That’s a very, very long story from my perspective that perhaps we can address at a later time. Understand for now, that despite everything I did and that was done to me, I hold your mother in an objective sense of admiration that is actually devoid of any acrimony.

I know that Ann has already told you that you have been a part of our lives since she and I first met, and that Kyrian and Brynne think about you quite a lot. I cannot number the occasions I’ve asked one or the other what they were thinking and the response has been something like “I’m just wondering what Selanie is doing right now.” You’ve never been with us, Selanie, but you’ve never been gone, either. Not a day has passed in my own life when I have not experienced a momentary silence spent in the singular thought of you.

Enough. I’m going to do one thing with this writing that is a bit different from my norm, and that is to not ramble on. I am naturally inclined to give you more information about me and us than you want in far more space than is strictly necessary, so I’ll spare you that. What I will say is that while there are obviously some bad feelings between your mother and myself, my honest desire is that those emotions can be responsibly set aside by both of us so that we, in our disassociation, can at least attempt to be who and what you need us to be for you.

And do know that while you and I may disagree on certain life philosophies, I admire you greatly. You have upheld your faith, your dignity, and your identity through many years of stress and misunderstanding, and whatever more you experience in life, you should always be proud of the fact that you were the most responsible for the person you are becoming. And for what it’s worth, that is something we have in common.

Selanie, I have no expectations of you, only love. I do not expect you to ever view your past from my perspective, nor come to believe in the things I know to be true, nor do I expect you to even want to meet us or visit with us. But you should know that our home is open to you, and there is much opportunity here in your chosen field should you ever elect to give it a chance. And like our love for you, that offer shall always stand.

And you should know that ever since I last saw you, sleeping in your swinging chair when you were just a bit over two months old, I have missed you dearly.

I hope you had a happy birthday, Selanie, and I hope that in the days to come, whenever you’re ready, you’ll make some time for us to talk. Email is always an option, and so is 605.214.1033 or 605.301.4071.

Peace to you.

~Dawnne