My younger son disappeared. There was no amber alert or police report. No searches for my missing boy, nothing on the news and no posters hung with his photo. If I had and an award was offered, I can’t help to think that I would gladly offer all my money and possessions I had to get him back, just to have a place back into my son’s life. It has been 8 years almost to the day when I last spoke to my son. I never ever dreamed that he would’ve just walked out of my life. He was given everything any child would have desired. We weren’t rich but we had much love. He was in sports, had bikes, skateboards, video game systems. Camping trips, fishing and beach events, guitars, drums and a safe home. His father and I saw him thru boot camp then helped pay for his wedding. Then in 2016 he just left. I’ve had 8 years of the most extreme case of depression and anxiety. Wanted to end it all many times. I searched the background reports to see if he was still alive. In my online searches I discovered he moved to the opposite side of the US and bought a home. I’ve never sent a letter, a card or any gift there since after all my attempts of calling, texting, emails were never returned. Silence. Then when his email address came back closed I realized I lost him. He shut the door and I have no key to him or his life. He has an extremely manipulative wife, where there were obvious issues in her life so I try to pretend she is behind this all. He now has two children I’ve never seen. My grandson will be 8 in December (learned that he was born only by an accidental phone call he made, ending the call with I didn’t mean to call you - click). I learned thru an unexpected source that he had a daughter sometime around mid May to early June 2019. I know their names. My life line to my youngest boy was snuffed out. And I have holes in my heart and through my mind. I’ve read comments and posts about what we “should do”. For me even this long afterwards, I feel most of the time I’m just a being among the living. I have an amazing first born son, but he is married with demanding work and my precious 13 year old grandgirl. I do cherish every second when I’m with them. But just as a mother who loves her children the same, I’m missing my boy with a deep ache. For what we had. For the memories we shared. For all we’ve missed. Today like yesterday and most of the days before that, I still feel shattered and broken to my core. God didn’t take my boy home to Heaven. No, my boy simply removed himself from all that is me. As if I or his brother ever existed. I pretend that ‘one day’ the madness will end. I’ll hear his cries of I’m sorries. I’ll once again see his beautiful big blue eyes. And I’ll hear his laugh and boy oh boy, I’ll see that smile! But now I’ve lost the tiny bit of hope. 8 years of nothing; no Mother’s Day cards or birthday phone call. No hugs or having a conversation over coffee. His beautiful singing voice is fading from my memory. Will tomorrow be the day I say enough? Or will I always have a speck of sand dust of hope? Tonight I’m just tired. Like I have been for 2,918 days
