When Jarrod was conceived I got a huge bandaid on my poor beaten heart. It's since been bloodied, crusty, worn bare, tender. When Jarrod called me a year ago and told me "I'm not coming back" the bandaid was ripped off and here I remain, raw, so confused, hurt and yet knowing.
I'm missing out on his current girlfriend, how his emotions are, what he's like, what she's like, what they're like. I'm missing out on his school work, studying for his driver's license which he probably won't tell me about until after it happens when he knows I want to very badly be there. He won a gold medal and I wasn't there...yep I'm having a pity party.
I try to regain some Buddhist composure. I become compassionate, unassuming, happy to simply be his mother (we are all and have been each others' mothers). It doesn't last.
It hurts. OUCH!