Since 1999, my son has not spoken to me. He is 27. I have two grandchildren who do not know me.
I was married to their daddy for 24 years. During our divorce, his daddy told him many lies, some truths, and in general just things he did not need to know. But, he was out to hurt me in any way he could and he managed to succeed, in the worst possible way.
I hid things from our children all their lives, such as their daddy using me for a punching bag. I never told them he watched the mileage on my car to see if I had went where I said I was going. They never knew he marked our dirt and gravel driveway to see if anyone came or left while he was at work. In general I tried to keep their little lives calm and without drama. I grew up in abuse and drama and I tried to hide that ugly facet of life from them.
Christmas has been HORRIBLE for me since 1999. It was all I could do those first couple of years to sleep through the entire season. I detested walking into a store and hearing Christmas music. The commercials on television with all the happy families with their colorful gifts and the fires in their fireplaces by their Christmas tree would provoke a panic attack out of the blue. Never was I more suicidal than the months of November and December.
It’s been 9 years now. He still won’t have anything to do with me. He still will not answer letters or emails. I don’t even try to call him on the phone anymore. Mothers Day comes and goes, as does my birthday. But this Christmas, I seem to be better.
I have actively helped Wise Husband find a fitting tree. I have bought all the ingredients for the goodies I used to cook at Christmas time. I catch myself humming along to the Holly Jolly Christmas songs.
It is sad that this means I have accepted the loss of my son, and it seems cold to admit that, but it is healthy that I can now say his name without breaking into tears.
Merry Christmas…at least for the next 10 days !!