This is the last in the series, continuing from here ...

How have I not felt this all before?

This thought keeps popping into my head, rattling around and bouncing off the sides. I'm wondering if anything else is going to shake loose.

And why? Why did I stuff this anger so far down? I wasn't torn from my child. I didn't suffer like the women who speak in "The Girls Who Went Away" with the pain of years of separation, doubt and worry.

I think it's me I missed, myself I was torn from. And much like women who relinquished lost the huge part of themselves that was a child, something vital in me was also removed and not replaced. My youth, my opportunities, my choices disappeared within months, and I now know that I miss them ... that I've been missing them for a very long time.

I had my baby, though, so I was in love, and I was busy and I had a world to conquer for her. There wasn't time for me to mourn what was gone, and regrets were not allowed. After all, only a terrible, terrible person could regret any circumstance that resulted in this beautiful little girl.

At fifty-five, I'm a happy woman. I have the world's best husband, wonderful kids, great relationships with my mom and my brothers, fantastic friends, a beautiful place to live, work that satisfies my soul ... and I know that all I am, all I have, accumulated through years spent being the me that my experiences dictated. If one little thing had happened differently, everything in my life could be different.

So, how can I sit here now and find myself coughing up these wads of anger? How can I resent the circumstances that brought me to this wonderful place in life I am right now?

Processing .... processing ... processing ...

It's going to take a while.

What floats to the surface for now, however, is the thought that I can be happy and sad at the same time. I can be grateful and resentful in the same breath. Anger over loss can mingle with joy over gains.

Finding the sadness and the resentment and the anger ... spitting them out and taking a good look ... feels like the first step.

All these years later, and finally ... FINALLY ... I'm understanding something I didn't even know I didn't know.

Is there anything else in here I should know about?

Thank you, Ann Fessler. Thank you.

For the whole series:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six