You know what happens if you take a pop bottle, shake it up and then open it?
Now imagine if that pop bottle was a child, and she was filled with trauma, grief, and pain...and you shook her up for 4 years.
Now tell her to pop the top.
She was right to hesitate. She knew it would be big.
She knew it was going to hit the ceiling and leave us sitting in a room getting pop dripped on our heads for the next month.
Its why she waited 4 years.
But in one night of epic proportions...she opened it up.
And it hit the ceiling.
Just like she was afraid it would.
We sat on the bathroom floor for hours. All night sometimes.
We laid in bed for days.
We drove in circles for hours, not ready to get out of the car yet.
We used up enough tissues to soak up Niagra Falls.
The damn burst in a cataclysmic event that flooded river banks and destroyed whole towns, but now that the damn was gone, the river water flows within the safe confines of its natural banks.
And it was good.
So so good.
And it was healing.
So so healing.
Eventually the tears slowed.
Eventually laughter came again.
She can cry now, about normal things.
She never used to cry before.