«

»

Dec 09

Dear Biological Mother of my Son

Dear biological mother of my son

At our age, 10 months doesn’t seem like a long time. It probably doesn’t seem like a long time to an almost 18 year old either. But here we sit, with you just starting to serve a 10 month sentence for yet another drug offense. From what I can find online, you still have some time hanging over your head for several other problems as well. I can’t help but wonder if the next 10 months are going to be the end of your relationship with our son.

10 months. That’s what you are staring down right now. Not a long stretch. You’ve done longer right? You’ve missed plenty in the life of your son to your drug addiction, and your propensity to find trouble. You missed 4th grade, most of 5th grade, you were sporadic in 6th grade, missed all of 7th grade, and by then, he had pushed you off to the side. You were the weekend parent. You were the parent he wouldn’t go out of his way to be around. By High School, you were falling further out of his life, a transient entity in his life at best.

By the time you monumentally botched his 16th birthday (I’m being kind here), you were hanging by a thread. When you failed to show up after school for his 16th birthday, it was a forgone conclusion that you were probably never going to be a part of his life, in a meaningful way, from that moment on.

But, like I often do, I tried to cling to a sliver of hope. Maybe, you would find a way to dig yourself out of the mess you had made. Maybe you would find a way to get clean. Maybe you would find a way to move past the constant legal problems. Maybe in a few years, you would resurface in his life as a different person, one he might even entertain the idea of allowing back into his life.

And then, the summer of 2014 happened. Reading the charges from the local public records reminds me that hope often leads to disappointment. Drugs, Theft, Disorderly, Falsification, Failure to Appear for any and every court related appearance, and oh look more charges, and arrests, and time in jail, and BAM! sentenced to 10 months in Prison, with what looks to be more on the way, once they finalize the rest of your cases.

But I wonder. Do you realize what you’re going to miss over the next 10 months? Do you recognize that your self destructive behavior has probably doomed your relationship with him? Let me explain to you what you will miss.

Christmas.
I had a hope that you might find a way to make your way to your parents house for Christmas. Maybe, you might even see him while you were there. At least he could say that he saw you during the last holiday season of his childhood.

His Birthday.
Let’s be real here. You fucked up his 16th birthday. You had one job. Show up at the school with your grandparents and go out to eat with your son. That’s it job completed! Yay! Confetti and unicorns! No present or card necessary. Just show up.

No. You were too busy getting high, and riding your man into the sunset to bother with your kid.

So here we are. His 18th birthday. I guess at least we can say that you wont be able to fuck up his head or ruin his day. Will he feel you aren’t there? Sure. Will he come home, a puddle of tears dripping with rage, because you didn’t show up for his birthday? No.

Prom.
Senior Fucking Prom. Did I expect you to actually be there for a photo op? NO. I’m not even that naive. I did expect to get some lame bullshit message on Facebook, asking to get some of the pics the way you did freshman year for homecoming, Cry Face Emoji and all. Welp, that’s an awkward situation I don’t have to worry about.

Graduation.
Biggest day so far. He’s going to walk. He’s going to get his diploma. It is THE day that he has been working for. Did I think that you would come, and sit next to me, and be chums? Obviously not. Did I expect you to come with your family? Eh, not really. I think that they are probably fed up with your nonsense as well. I thought there might be a chance of this happening but it would have had to be stupifying odds for me to place a bet on it. I did hold out hope (there’s that stupid word again) you would find a way to make it. Lurking, watching. Maybe you would try to say something to him. Maybe you would watch from the back, content to see him succeed, and then leave, happy to know that you witnessed it.

Boot Camp.
You don’t have to like his decision to go to the Marines. Let’s be honest. It’s a scary fucking thought that he could end up being in the middle of some godawful situation while in the Marines. But, it fills me with pride to know that this is a decision he made, because he wants to be a better man. He wants to do this. He has only wanted to do this for a very long time. Like it or not, he’s going. Nothing anyone can say will sway him from his position. Being that you didn’t like his decision, I didn’t expect you to stand there, and hug him the day that he left. But I again, I hoped that you would have a chance to say goodbye.

Boot Camp Graduation.
I covered your opinion already. I wont cover it again. But seriously, this could be the single most
important day in the next 10 months. I have great friends, who would say that this was “the” day in their life. (up until they had children of their own, got married, etc…). And again, you will be absent.

10 months. Not a long stretch. You’ve done longer. But I don’t think you’ve done any harder time than this.