A LETTER TO MY SON

 

Dear J, 

     I have been trying very hard to respect that you do not wish to speak with me right now. I think about you every single day, and sometimes I look up your Facebook hoping for a picture so I can know you're happy and healthy. I think constantly about the last time we talked, and I wonder what I said to make you want to "go separate ways". 

I think about my time parenting you as a little kid, through the teenage years, and then knowing you as an adult. I know I was not a perfect parent, and honestly I don't think anyone is. I think about the mistakes I made, and the ways I would do things differently if I could go back. I remember your first word, when you started walking, watching you riding around on your go-kart with Elizabeth, dropping you off on your first day of school where you immediately helped a kid feel okay with being there...and I cried walking out....the very first football practice where you broke your nose to that very last game your senior year where I hugged you and we both cried. And everything in between. I play all of the fond memories like a recording in my mind. 

As you were growing up I felt like we were so close that nothing could ever come between that. I loved knowing and feeling confident that our relationship was good and solid. That I always tried to be there for you and help you in whatever ways I could. And that you trusted me and liked spending time with me. 

I'm not sure when that changed, but I think it was when my mental health deteriorated to a breaking point. I had always had issues, but suddenly it was uncontrollable and I felt like I had lost control. I struggled for so long holding it in and then the dam finally burst. And none of this was your responsibility or your fault. I had no idea how to deal with this, and I think you were left wondering where your mom had gone. I am so sorry about that. I am so sorry that you had to deal with that. 

I hope that you know that I did the best I could with who I was and what I had at the time. And any errors I made were not because I didn't love you or because I was trying to be malicious. I know I embarrass you, and my mental health embarrasses you. I can't change those things about myself no matter how hard I try. I do try to manage them, and sometimes I fail at that. I promise you that it's not intentional. 

I will love you forever. And I will always think of you even if we never reconcile. I will always want the very best for you. 

Love, 

Mom