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Dear Daughter

Heyyyy Ya'll! It has been a while since I had some time to sit down and write a blog post. I have been sharing bits and pieces of life updates through mini ๐’ฎ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’ถ๐’ข๐“‡๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ on my Facebook page, but here is where I get to really share with you all.

Life has felt like a whirlwind for your sis lately. The new year began and before I knew it, my schedule for the first 2 1/2 months was packed. I had school three days a week, and two of those days started at 8am (I don't know who told me to choose an 8am class, but never again) with General Phycology. That class has been kicking my butt ya'll. My other class, Intro to Counseling, has been amazing, but I didn't realize how deep it would force me to dig into my journey of life. Many of you have been following me for quite a long time, and I feel like I have shared every piece of my life with you all, but in these last few months the Lord has been revealing so much more about who I am, why I am, and how I am. I hope to be able to share more of that with you through these future blog posts in hopes that it resonates with your own journeys to healing.

I digress. So in addition to school, I also took a class to learn how to train incoming foster parents through the Queen Esther Program. The Queen Esther Program is a collaboration between the Faith Community and the State of Connecticut Department of Children and Families. The collaboration is committed to the recruitment and support of individuals and families to care for children entering the foster care system. While I was IN training during the week, I was also CO-TRAINING my first group of foster parents all day on Saturdays for 4 weeks. My brain was fried ya'll. In the midst of all that, my first grandchild decided to make his grand entrance on February 11th, two weeks early, and Josh (my husband) ended up being admitted in the hospital on the same weekend. I was literally running from hospital to hospital. By March 1st, your girl was running on fumes. I was mentally and physically exhausted. I knew that I needed some major self care and was grateful that I had a trip to North Carolina already planned for March 16th.

So let me tell ya'll what happened! I am in my last day of training my first group of foster parents, and one of them asked me this random question. She said, "Sana, how did it feel when you became a mother after having been in foster care?". Sounds like a simple question right? Wrong! I opened my mouth and what came out even surprised me.

"I'm not sure what it felt like, I had already been a mother to my twin brother since I was 4 years old." That simple question unlocked a series of truths within me that I hadn't realized was stuck between my heart and my tongue. I, at the young age of 40, was tired of parenting, I never experienced the joy of parenting, and I missed out on being a daughter.

When class was over I rushed home to sit on my bathroom floor and cry. Eventually my cry turned into a sob and after a few minutes I began to ask the Lord, "what now?, what do I do with this information?" I didn't receive an answer in that moment, or that day, or that week. In fact the revelation of my question didn't come until I landed in North Carolina, and as I write this blog, I am still processing that revelation.

In case you don't know, I found my paternal biological family on December 31, 2020 after searching for them for over 10 long years. They pretty much all live in North Carolina so in order to see them, I have to be intentional about planning it. Life began lifeing in 2021 so I was only able to see them once, and then once in 2022. In North Carolina, with my family, is where I most feel like a daughter. I lay on the couch, watch tv, talk and laugh with my aunts and uncles. I feel a sense of peace. It may sound strange, but when I am there, I am not a wife or a mom, I am just Sana, a daughter.

I arrived at my aunt and uncles house on a Thursday and was told that it was women's weekend at their church, so my aunt planned for us to attend the women's prayer breakfast that would be held that Saturday morning. This would be the start of God answering my question. I awoke Friday afternoon (yup I slept until noon) with no real plans, but my aunt needed to go check on her mom and her aunt so away we went. I watched my aunt subtly check on and care for her mom who had recently lost her husband. We then went by her aunts house who was recovering from a recent surgery. I sat on the couch and watched her aunts daughter take care of her own mom. Making sure she was bathed, and fed, and comfortable for the evening. Next I headed to my older cousins house so that we could have a cousins game night. While we played games, ate food, and sang loud and off key to some throwback songs, I noticed my cousins wife taking care of his mom who is elderly. I watched her speak with such care and patience. My heart melted. I was beginning to realize that God, in his most lovingly Father way, was giving me the answer to my hearts cry. The next day I attended the prayer breakfast with two of my aunts at their church. One of my aunts had picked up her elderly mother in law and brought her to the breakfast as well. After the breakfast we stopped at the grocery store so that my aunts mother in law could grab some groceries for her house. We then proceeded to her mother in laws home. I watched my aunt put all the groceries away, wash the dishes, and make sure that her in-laws had everything they may need for the week. She spoke to her mother in law in such a loving and kind tone, but what touched me the most, was her face. In all of her doing, she had a smile on her face. She was honored to care for her mother in a daughter.

Here is the revelation, the answer, the gift that the Lord has given me, his daughter....

Daughters are not just cared for, Daughters care for...

See I have always felt that being a daughter meant the superficial things that the world shows us, you know, being a daddy's girl, the spoiled princess of the home, hearing the look just like your mother. I thought it meant being doted on and over. Yet, as I sat in the feelings of what I saw that weekend, daughters caring for their mothers, I realized that I have been a daughter my whole life. Our capacity as daughters are different. Not one is the same as the other. I have watched my adopted mother, Alberta, take care of her mother for over 30 years. She has sacrificed much of her own life to ensure that her mother is well cared for. While I am sure there have been days when she desired to be the daughter that is cared for, ๐†๐จ๐ ๐œ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ž๐ ๐ก๐ž๐ซ ๐ญ๐จ ๐›๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐๐š๐ฎ๐ ๐ก๐ญ๐ž๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐œ๐š๐ซ๐ž๐ฌ ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ and it is an honor to be a daughter that cares.

So this week I have been pondering how I can stop idolizing the role of a daughter that I was not intended to carry and be grateful to be a daughter that cares for.

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Hi, I'm Sana Latrese.  I welcome you to my blog where me goal is to help you own your truth, shift your perspective, and live unashamed and free.

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