“Once the world is pulled out from beneath your feet, do you ever get to stand on firm ground again?”-Jodi Picoult, 19 Minutes

After WS1 went to live with his father in 2005, my relationship with him seemed hunky-dory.  At first.  We called each other, we sent texts back and forth, and he’d come to see me on ‘my’ weekends and holidays.  We celebrated his birthdays together.  He helped at WS2’s baseball practices and games.  He went deer hunting with my brother, we played umpteen million board games, he attended WS2’s first communion, I took him driving for practice, he would call me on my birthday and Mother’s Day, he came to my dad’s funeral-even had a speaking part in the service, we played baseball in the backyard, we went swimming, he came for my mom’s surprise 75^th birthday party.  WS2 and I sometimes drove to spend weekends with him.  We’d stay in a hotel, WS1 would have a friend stay a night with us, and we’d play pool, cards, and the world’s funniest game, Cranium.  Sounds great, huh?  We were having ourselves a ‘grand ol’ time’!  Making memories to last a lifetime.  I kept (foolishly) thinking to myself “him living with his dad isn’t the end of the world after all”.   Spring Break of 2007, WS1 asked if he could stay at home to hang out with his friends and play in a baseball tournament.  His friends are his LIFE.  “If the mountain won’t come to Mahomet, Mahomet will have to go to the mountain.”   This Mahomet and WS2 went to see his baseball games. When summer came, I realized that we were going to start spending less and less time together.  WS1 had summer select baseball, so again he asked if he could stay home and play with his team, and hang out with his friends.  This Mahomet and WS2 hit the road again to watch some of his games.  Before one particular game, WS1 and I had our picture taken together.  He had his arm around my shoulders and had a great smile.  Little did I know at the time that this picture with him would sadly, be our last.  We saw each other in June.  WS1 had just turned 16 yrs old a month earlier.  He was showing me his new driver’s license-he was so proud!  He had his arm around my shoulder while we talked and walked through the kitchen.  He gave me a hug and a kiss when we said our ‘I love you’s’ and goodbyes.  Little did I know that this would be the last time that I would see him.  If I’d only known this, I probably wouldn’t have let go so easily of that last hug.  I would have really felt it and cherished it more than I did. I would’ve memorized every single word he said. I would’ve told him again how proud I am of him, and that he was growing up to be a fine young man.  WS1 calls began to be farther and fewer in between.  I would call him every so often.  Sometimes he answered, most of the time he didn’t for whatever reason.  I would send text messages, and sometimes he replied, others he didn’t. With him it was hit or miss.  He was the box of chocolates Forest kept talking about.  You just never knew what you were gonna get.  Then in October I kept trying to call him but had no luck reaching him.  My bad-vibe-radar was kickin’ in to high gear. I left him messages and sent texts. No replies. At the beginning of November I mailed his father a letter stating that I wanted to exercise my Thanksgiving visitation with the boys. I got a phone call a few days later.  The boy’s father called and said that WS1 didn’t want to come visit me for Thanksgiving. My heart went on orange-alert.  I told him I wasn’t going to accept it from him, I wanted to hear it straight from WS1’s mouth.  We hung up.  The phone rang again.  It was WS1 this time.  I knew this couldn’t be good. He started telling me that he didn’t want to come visit me for Thanksgiving.  I asked him why and all he could say was “I just don’t”.  I asked him what was wrong.  He said “nothing. I just don’t want to talk to you”.  My troubled heart was trembling and gasping for air.  Again I asked him why.  He would only say “I don’t know, but I won’t be coming to see you for Thanksgiving… (then a background female stepmother type voice was saying “or Christmas”) …. and not for Christmas either”.   My heart fell in my stomach and took up residence.  I tried to get an answer out of him as to why; he said he had to go, then hung up.  How could we go from laughing and chattin’ it up one day to him not wanting to have a relationship with me??!?  In slow motion, my heart fell to the depths of the earth while my world was being pulled out from beneath me.  I went totally numb.  I didn’t know what to say. Or do. Or think.  All I could do was cry uncontrollably, and then cry some more.  I eventually stopped crying, on the outside.  Inside, my heart is still crying for him every day.  I don’t know why he doesn’t want to talk to me, but I do know this:  I love him for always. I love him unconditionally.  I miss him with all my heart and soul.  I will always be here for him with open arms.  I’ll be here, ready and waiting, for the happy ending to our story. 

YW

wife@yankeewife.com