I thought I knew loss

I thought i knew pain of loss before
But not like this
I think I’ve written that a thousand times this year.
I’ve lost a lot this year.
I remember that timid girl cowered in the airport parking garage two and half years ago. overwhelmed by smoke clouds and terrified of not having phone service
that no one would understand her language or her love.
Waiting to be picked up, welcomed.
She was. They came.
They scooped her up and told her of the beauty of this country and the ones that surround it
And they drove her to a building she thought could never feel like home.
She had just had her her home ripped away from her?
It didn’t at first... feel like home. She fought like hell for that.
With teeth and spit and grit and a fierceness she never imagined could come from her own spirit
She risked it all, cut every tie she could to make this land feel like home.
And now it does.
I’ve lost a lot this year.
Deep passionate love
and Stability
and
Sure-footedness and
And shallow happiness
And hope that humanity can sustain me
And a defined world view
And the idea that family must mean the same blood runs through our veins
It does, but it’s not the blood I thought I knew.
It’s risk and surrender and the spirit of a lion that pulses through our organs and sustains us
I’ve lost a lot this year. fear.
I’ve lost a lot of fear.
She’s not my friend anymore.
I’m hiding in the bathroom stall because Im concerned people will think I’m stuck in some terrible situation

And i am.
But I’m not afraid now.
I’m more broken than I’ve been so far.
I’ve lost a lot this year.
But I’m not afraid.