Wednesday, May 11, 2011
I have been thinking about loss a lot lately. Our boy's loss has triggered some old feelings of loss from when I was young.
My parents split up when I was 7. I didn't see my dad again until I was 26. His choice. No keeping in touch, no birthday cards, no Christmas cards. No contact.
I tried. But I was 7. What does a 7 year old understand when she stands at her father's door and he won't even come to the door but sends his girfriend instead to say he doesn't want to see her.
I needed answers. 19 years later, I wrote a letter, left a phone number and he called me back. Since then we have maybe spoken or seen each other a handful of times. That was 13 years ago.
I used to think it was something I did. His leaving. I would cry at my desk at school. It took me until I was 33 to realize it was nothing I did. What made me realize it? I found out he got married. To the woman he had been with for 20 some years. He never bothered to tell me. It was that day I knew it wasn't me. It was him.
Yvan has never met him. I don't speak of him often. I have made my peace with him.
I work hard at making my peace with the loss. The loss of the person who was supposed to be there. This loss rears its head at funny times. It has made me leary of making friends. I have trust issues. I will probably work thru these issues for the rest of my life.
We all have baggage. We all work at things. This is mine.
I mourn for my loss.
But more than anything I mourn for our son's loss.
I had the oppurtunity to look my loss in the face and ask questions.
I am unsure if Ade will have this chance. We will do what we can. When we can.
I will share my story of loss with him. How can it compare?
We will tell him we love him. That we are there for him.
Comfort him when he cries.
Answer his questions when he asks.
But will it be enough?