A New Era in Our Family Tree
We’re raising kids who feel loved, safe, and happy. But more than that, we’re raising kids who are paving the way for a new era in our family tree.
This past year, they’ve experienced a lot. They’ve faced loss. They’ve watched people they love struggle. They’ve gained a deeper understanding of how addiction can devastate lives. And through it all, they’ve rolled with the punches in ways that have humbled me. Not because it’s been easy for them – but because they haven’t had to carry it alone.
When they’re sad, angry, frustrated, or happy, they tell us. There’s no fear in it. No hesitation. No scanning the room to see if their feelings are “allowed.” And that, to me, is everything.
Rilyn speaks up when she’s frustrated, unafraid to name how she feels. Rus acknowledges when he’s overwhelmed and knows he can ask for support without shame. That might seem small to someone else, but to me it’s proof that something has shifted. It’s evidence that we’re breaking generational patterns – that their own children may never have to carry the same emotional weight we did.
They’ve watched us work on healing while continuing to live their own lives. They’ve witnessed the effort it takes to unlearn what we were taught and choose something different. Rus once called it “secondhand trauma” – being close enough to feel the ripple effects, without being the ones responsible for holding it all together.
At one point, we wanted to protect them completely. To shield them from every hard truth. To make sure they never saw the ugliness we endured. But we’ve learned that wasn’t possible – and it wasn’t necessary. Instead, they’re learning. They’re growing. They’re seeing the truth of the world while knowing, without question, that they are safe, loved, and supported. They’re allowed to feel deeply and still be children. They’re allowed to ask hard questions and trust the answers they’re given. They see the battles we’ve fought. The cycles we’re breaking. The intentional work it takes to build something better than what we were handed.
And sometimes, they tell us – we’re doing a good job. That is a beautiful thing.
We’re not raising kids who are untouched by pain. We’re raising kids who know where to land when pain shows up. Kids who can speak, feel, and trust without fear. We’re raising children who feel loved, safe, and happy – and who are quietly forging a new path forward for everyone who comes after them.
