I’ve known my share of it. But I’ve known my share of bliss too.
When my son was born, over 20 years ago, and I saw him for the first time, I knew right then that he’s the best thing I’ve ever done. I knew he was someone very special and that there’d be no replacing him.
At that stage of my life I’d lived long enough to know I was stuck but not long enough to learn that it’s possible to get unstuck. I buckled down and did what I thought had to be done.
What I can tell you today is I’ve cried exponentially more tears over his absence from my life than I have any one person, thing, or event.
I kept thinking that, at some point, I was going to reach a moving on place, but days, weeks, months, and years went by, and that place just kept on eluding me. There was nothing recognizable for me to turn to for finding it.
If I’d thought I’d never see him again I’m sure I’d have never been able to go through with it. I’ve always believed I would see him again. I still believe I will see him again, but I’ll always lament the years I lost, the milestones, the bumps, the bruises, the joy…my baby…my beautiful and precious baby growing up before my eyes.
Instead, I watched from a distance in pictures and letters sent once a year from the people I felt could do so much more for him than I ever could.
What was I thinking? Lord have mercy!!