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Letter to my absent son.

It has been years since we have had a comfortable relationship. There have been so many things that have damaged what we had at one time. I still love you.

You were my golden boy. I was so proud of you. When you went to kindergarten I helped out in your classroom. I helped out in lots of classrooms as you went through grade school. I provided cookies and costumes and I thought I was being a good mom. Your dad and I were there with you all through school, sports and parent teacher conferences, band and summer camps. You were raised in a church, went to Sunday school, & got confirmed. I enjoyed your friends and I thought I was being a good mother. I did the best I could.

I fell in love and married a man who loved me so much that he loved you and wanted to adopt you when you were five years old. He has been with you all your life, loving you and supporting you. He was/is your chance at a father. Your biological father didn't want kids and abandoned me when I was pregnant. I have never thought of him as your father, but just a sperm donor. Your real dad, my husband, loved you and raised you as his own because that's what you were to him. Your real dad, Dave, a vegetarian, took you deer hunting. Is that not love? He doesn't kill bugs and he was willing to teach you how to kill a deer, because that's a father's job. He never once shirked his duty to you. Dave gave 199%. He was/is the best. We've tried to support you and love you through everything.

You grew up and went off to college where you used drugs and got in over your head and attempted suicide. We rushed 400 miles across the state on your dad's birthday and came to your side at the hospital. We watched as they flushed your body out with charcoal, we listened to the doctor saying you might lose your kidneys, and we rejoiced when you pulled through without needing a transplant. Those were scary days. We were able to bring you home to finish nursing you back to health.

I thought we were doing what was best for you. We took you to the psychologist they recommended. We tried son. We were pretty good parents. I thought it was time for you to grow up when you weren't ready. You married and divorced several times. One time we drove clear across the state to be there for your wedding, the next time we gave you $650 to pay for a bargain basement wedding in a bar. The third relationship that we knew of we tried to support but it was difficult. We haven't always been perfectly understanding. We have been human. We have made our mistakes and you have made yours.

Last we were told (by your last female companion of many years) you did not like me the way I am now. At this point in my life I'm in a wheelchair and cannot walk. We were told you prefer to remember me as I was 20 years ago, walking and strong. I would prefer to be that way but that is not the reality. You did tell me you thought I was weak. Physically, I admit I am. There are moments I am mentally and emotionally weak too. I was crying after you told me (on the phone) that I was weak.

You are 36 now, when can I expect you to grow up?

Since I am what I am, like Popeye says, I don't expect we will have a relationship. That makes me sad, as I know I will eventually die without you in my life. I have no control over this, so I have come to accept it. I do have some hope, though, that you will mature in the next years and you will rethink your position. I am hoping that you will see past my gimpy body to the mother I still am. I love you. I really think you are missing out.

I'm sure I've said this all wrong. Please just understand that I love you.

annnieM