I used to dread this day. Cristy would sweep the pile of me off the floor and carry me off on a drive that took up the whole day. Even though she was a mother, we would barely acknowledge the day. I would always write a little something to Gracie and her mom and imagine what their morning looked like. I missed her every day but really selfishly missed her on Mothers Day. My day.
I spoke with many moms yesterday morning that live that same life. Some of them have been there for years and others, just a few months. I heard things like:
Do you think he knows I’m missing him?
Does she even remember me?
I can’t breathe.
It’s hard to know what to say other than – the time goes by, I promise. And one day you’ll have every opportunity to explain where you’ve been and that you’ve been waiting. And eventually, they’ll put the pieces of their life together. There will be answers for both of you.
If you get a chance, look up the Sean Goldman story that aired on Dateline just a few Friday’s ago. It’s the story of a boy stolen by his mother and taken to Brazil. He was 4. After a crazy turn of events, he was finally returned at the age of 9. Parental Alienation played a big factor but the things he held quietly (while waiting) were really amazing and reassuring.
See it. Let it give you hope. Allow every little thing to give you hope.
Happy Mothers Day, my friends.