I hesitate to write about this and I hesitate not to write. If we do not speak of the hurtit does not mean it goes awayrather at times it can festerinto anger and hateand often times the rage is aimed at our own heart.
So I write.even though my heart is now on the mend.I write so I remember.I want to remember my own questions ...
because having a child estrange himself from your familybrings complicated emotionsand sometimes they come in as questions …
Is it my fault?Could I have done something different?If I was the parent then …that I am now …would it be different.How long will this phase last?Will I even see him again?
But mostly I wonderin his heart of hearts Does he know just how much I love him.
There is much grievingby many in a chosen estrangementNext to my sister's deaththis … and the years leading up to ithave been the hardest for me.
But it s a quite sufferingthe kind that is usually behind doorsbut to mekeeping it secret gives it a shame I am not willing to wear.A chosen estrangementis brutaland there is no public rite of passageNo sorrowful good byeIT is a limbofilled with hope and fearand wondering when and if it will end.
The wondering if he is OKthe tensing upevery time our land line ringsand what dreaded news could be on the other end.
As far as I knowhe is still in school and workingandin committed relationshipand even has a new puppy but also a motorcycleand he has an intensity I can relate toand that is why I have always worried about him Intensity has many beautiful attributes it allows you to feel and see so much beauty in the worldbut it has a double edgethat can take you to the other side.
His phone goes unansweredmy texts of love and supportperhaps unread.We all have reached outwith no avail.
So I must realizeIt is what it is.Give myself moments to grieveand then pack it back upand move forwardwith gratitudefor the beauty and love in my life
Knowing I can still make a beautiful life
even with a hole in my heart.
I send my son much loveand prayersthat his heart may be healed.
