When I reach
my hand into the mailbox and see the crisp white envelope with the county logo
in the corner, my heart, as it invariably does, skips a beat. Important news seems to always come with a
phone call or in a crisp white envelope.
I half hold my breath while I rip open the seal. As I read the document that had been
carefully folded inside, it takes a moment for my mind to catch up with my
eyes. Although I can read the words
quite clearly, I can not fully comprehend the enormity of their meaning. I cannot reconcile the harshness of the words
with you, my sweet little one, who are perched securely on my hip.
Mother’s whereabouts unknown.
At
first I am outraged. How could your
mother, the one who was supposed to love you forever, so carelessly abandon her
responsibilities? How could she bear to disappear
into a world that doesn’t include you in it?
How could she walk away from such an amazing child? Such a precious gift?
But I
am also saddened. I grieve for this
young woman who gave birth to you. I
cannot imagine the choices and circumstances and steps that led her to this
point. My heart breaks when I think that
she could feel so wrecked, so trapped in her brokenness that she could see no
other option except to leave.
I am so
sorry for everything she is missing in her absence: your beautiful smile and your funny baby words
and your wild hair that will not be contained and your tight squeezes around my
neck. I am sad that she is not here to
witness your first tentative steps.
Most of
all, it grieves me to think that because of her choices, because of her
destructive relationships and deadly habits, it means that you, my sweet one,
do not have the permanence and stability and security that every child deserve.
