memories of "the kid"

Sometimes as I get ready for bed, I think of my daughter as I remember what it was like to tuck her into her bed at night. I remember how she was scared of the dark, so I comforted her the best that I could. She slept so soundly. Sometimes, I see other kids playing in my neighborhood, and I look to see if they were playing games that she would enjoy. When I was at the grocery store the other day, I overheard a little girl asking her mother for some school snacks. It made me smile, but inside it hurt that I had no one to buy school snacks for. Today, I brought some Girl Scout cookies from a real live girl scout, I know I don’t need the cookies, but that girl reminded me of “the kid”. I brought an extra box on top of the box I didn’t need. I gave a rundown of all the places to go roller-skating in town just yesterday, like I was an expert. I took down the 2005 calendar she made for me, personalized with her mug shot. I will put it in the photo album. Her bedroom remains untouched, as if she will return to it. She will not. I will remember fondly dancing with her in the living room still.
“The kid” will remain with her mother for the time being, and I hear from “the kid” very little and see her none. Sometimes I feel that is the best thing. When I remember “the kid”, which I do often, I always feel sad. Her mother lives so far away. When I think of the circumstances surrounding the separation of me from my family I am saddened. I always think of what could I have done to rectify the situation. Her mother just left. Sure, times were tough, but I didn’t beat her mother or… whatever… I can’t rationalize the irrational. I wish her mother well, but I still wonder if she knows the emptiness and sadness she imparted when she took away my daughter. Memories are still fond, even in sadness. Yeah, I really call her “the kid”. (smile) I wish she were here now. I'd kiss her on her forehead and send her to bed, making sure the nightlight was on...