Was it only two short years ago that I received that email from you on the night of Oct 9, 2016? Or was it so very long ago that I received that email from you on the night of Oct 9, 2016?
In the cosmic scheme of time it seems like a blink of an eye, yet so much of life has happened in that short time, it is as if I have known you forever.
Time is funny like that. I missed you for 49 years. Some of those years were harder than others. Some I was so busy I could barely catch my breath. Some long and traumatic, some fast and furious. But always, I missed your face, your presence. I didn’t even know what your voice sounded like. Or what exactly your face looked like. What color was your hair? Your eyes? I ached to know.
I yearned to hug you, to hold you close, to wipe your nose, and wash your face. To hear you call me Mommy. To put a Band-Aid on your boo-boos, to sing you lullabies to watch you learn to ride a bike, fly a kite, kick a soccer ball, to teach you how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, to draw a cat. To take your photo on your first day of school, to argue with you about your school work, to feel sad when you stopped believing in Santa. To reassure you as we signed you up for sports teams, clubs, and fun events. To cry sad tears when I realized you were growing up. To worry when you learned to drive a car. To feel your pain when you had your first girlfriend break up with you. To go with you to order your first tux for Prom. To cry happy tears when you graduated from junior high school, high school, college. At your wedding. It was so hard. I missed all of that and more. They told me I would forget you, but I never did. I couldn’t even if I tried.
When you first emailed me and I was found, I was deliriously happy, amazingly fearful, and giddy with anticipation. Here was the son I thought I might never see…well, actually thought I would never see up close. It was too long of a stretch to really believe we could connect. Too painful to think you would reject me, hate me. I was convinced you were in Alabama somewhere oblivious to me, your life journey never to connect with mine. But always.. always.. there was that tiny flame that held on to the belief that we would meet.
Because of that flame I wrote in my journal and on my lists of things to do, ‘Find Jamie.’ Even as I wrote it, I wondered. Would I?
I gave it up to God. I was weary. God and the Universe might know something I didn’t know. I had to have faith. I had to know that something would happen someday and I even thought and prayed just let me know he is all right. That he has a good life and is healthy. Please just let me know that. Give me a sign.
Then one evening when you were not on my mind. I was tired. Weary of the Presidential Debate on the television. Eager to head to bed and read my book, I got that sign. Ping…an alert on my phone. An email from you! YOU. And you were all grown up, 49 years old with a new name that I would have never known. And still living in Louisiana, for God’s sake, why had I fantasized for all those long years you lived in Alabama?
Here you were. My boy. My first son. What did I ever do to be this blessed? I almost fell to my knees. I thanked God profusely through out the night. Scared but I knew I would face the fire and I would answer you, regardless of the outcome. I would welcome with open arms the son I had relinquished during the most difficult period of my life, if he would have me.
The son who I had mourned secretly and cried about alone to myself, for almost 50 years. If I had not believed in God’s goodness (I like to think I already did, but ..) This, THIS.. was proof positive.
The shame I had suffered, the loss of my baby, the anger and hurt I had hurled upon myself and my parents, all was snuffed out the first time I heard your voice. I was proud of you, with a mother’s pride that I did not even deserve to feel for you. I had done nothing to help you grow into the man you were. I was absent that whole time. But still I adored you from the first email and was full of pride for you from our first conversation.
Now two years have passed…some months went fast, some slow. We have been lucky enough to fly to see each other and I have come to you 4 times and you to see me and your new family twice. Seeing my sons together for the first time was one of most powerful joys of my life. Whoever would have believed this? It is incredibly beautiful.
I have gotten to know my amazing grand children along with you and your wife. Not once have I taken it for granted, how you all welcomed me with open arms. Was this possible? Am I not dreaming, I asked, because this is as akin to Heaven as I believe it must be.
We have learned so much about each other in these two years, but there is still a life time of things to learn about each other. Things have mellowed. You are busy with family, work, and I am now an extra branch to hang on your busy ever-growing tree of life. I accept that and am grateful for what we do have. I sometimes feel needy and admonish myself. I can’t ask for more. I am the luckiest Mom in the world and I count my blessings.
I used to think your life would not be good because I wasn’t there for you. Such a conceited thought I guess, but I am being honest. I thought that because you were missing in my life and no matter how good my life was it could only have been better if you were in it.
Today when I awoke I realized that even if I died today, I would be happy and fulfilled in the knowledge that you are good. You have a fine life and fantastic children and wife. You did it all and did it well even though I was not there to hold your hand.
But I am there now.