Dear Mom, cont..

It’s so weird how things happen.  I wrote the beginning of my letter the day before yesterday, and just yesterday, the following was the post of the day in the Buddhist Boot Camp page:


When I was growing up I used to cry in my room and try to think of ways to either kill myself or the people I blamed for my misery to make it stop.

I ended up doing what I later discovered is the Buddhist approach to alleviating suffering: I didn’t get rid of my mother, for example; I got rid of my emotional attachment to her. There is a cause for our suffering, and there is a way out.

It turns out that I hated her because she never met my expectations of how I thought a mother “should” be. But as soon as I took away those expectations, I finally saw her as my greatest teacher, not enemy, and accepted the fact that she did the best she could.

Although she didn’t model behavior that I wanted to mimic when I grew up, she perfectly demonstrated what I DIDN’T want to ever become, and that’s an equally important lesson.

What I learned is that nobody is in charge of your happiness (or unhappiness) except YOU, and when somebody loves you,
they don’t have to say it. You can tell by the way they treat you.


I was struck as if by lightning.  How can I dispute the ways of the Universe when a sign like this is literally thrust in my face?

On one hand, I felt liberated…on the other? I felt like I’d been kicked in the teeth.  

Is this how my son thinks of me? My heart broke all over again, but I made a decision.  If this is how he thinks of me, then I need to give him peace.  I need to let go of the expectations that I have of him. I love my son.  My first born.  The love of my life….so many times, he was my reason for living. I need to let him go, and let his heart find its own way back to me….or not.  

There’s the old saying “If you love something, set it free.  If it’s meant to be, it will come back”.  I need to embrace that, and let things be.  It’s hard, because all I really want to do is grab him, shake his shoulders and yell in his face “WHY!!??!!!”.  Not knowing ‘why’ is horrible.  It’s like a jagged knife being plunged into that part of my being that houses my love.  It hurts.  

I know I’m not the first mother to lose her child to estrangement, and it’s not even the first time I’ve gone through this with this child, and I’ve gone through it with my youngest child…..but this is the first time where I don’t know the reason for the estrangement.  

So, if anyone is reading this, please keep me and my son in your thoughts.  I’d love to have him back someday.  




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