#WEDJ2020 (11/31) | Good Soil

“Still the other seed fell on good soil. It came up and yielded a crop, a hundred times more than was sown.” — Luke 7:8 (NIV)

Ciara Todd
Jul 13, 2020 · 2 min read
Image by Pexels from Pixabay

I thought I dodged you until I found your Twitter. I guess I needed a reminder about my greatest mistake and the most joyless decision ever made.

I called you by so many names as I read your pontifications about love and life. I caught it fairly quick that I was on the other side of your “lessons learned.” Watching you give relationship advice even though you failed to produce such a thing with me. I helped you grow, I guess.

Our relationship couldn’t produce anything of value because the soil was so damn damaged.

We didn’t set a solid foundation. We tried to add love on top of selfishness, lust, desire, trauma bonds and dreams deferred. We tried to make a flower grow from the concrete. Our flower stood no chance. When we had an opportunity to fertilize our friendship, to save the soil, the rock bed of this relationship, we ruined it. Both of us were tired of the weeds of our failure. We wanted so desperately to bloom.

I’m angry that the world never got to see the true beauty of you and I together.

We were primed to change the world. Our seeds were going to change the world.

We missed out on you becoming the father of my children. That divine assignment was just for you.

The Sunday dinners and weekend breakfast. Pancakes would be the move. Our daughter? Wicked smart and kind and full of creative energy. The little girl would be writing soliloquies inside of my womb. Our son? A genius. We’d always catch him disassembling some electronic device only to put it back together. Engineer off rip. Their “Grandpop” would have spoiled them to death.

My Dad deserved some grandchildren before he left earth. He deserved that moment.

That’s what had me thinking about you in the first place. I miss my Dad.

I regret not giving my Dad a wedding to witness and grandchildren to raise. I regret not letting my Dad give me away. I regret not extending my father’s legacy while he could see it happen.

I don’t want my father’s stock to go to waste. We deserve to continue.

His plus mine plus yours? World-changing. Imagine the family tree to grow from that soil.

Ciara Todd

Written by

Memoirist in spirit and in truth. Christian essayist when both the spirit and truth move me. email: crjtwrites[at]gmail.com

uglyhonest

uglyhonest is a storytelling series about the shoulda-coulda-woulda and the “thank God that didn’t happen”. Ugly stories about love and life told in a beautiful way.

Ciara Todd

Written by

Memoirist in spirit and in truth. Christian essayist when both the spirit and truth move me. email: crjtwrites[at]gmail.com

uglyhonest

uglyhonest is a storytelling series about the shoulda-coulda-woulda and the “thank God that didn’t happen”. Ugly stories about love and life told in a beautiful way.

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