Climbed into bed, sleepy and ready to snooze... and my brain starts going. A very vivid picture. I can't say I was entirely asleep, because I wasn't, so it wasn't a dream really... but maybe it was a little bit.
We were at the airport and I was having to say goodbye to Tristan. I was having to leave him behind... and I started to cry. And I didn't stop. Crying became sobbing, became braying and howling with tears and snot dripping from my nose, wet face wet pillow wet neck. I went and held Tristan in his bed until he muttered and moaned and pushed me away in his sleep. It wasn't enough. I cried and cried and cried... and I don't remember falling asleep. I don't remember stopping crying.
I think this is so sad because I know it is true. I know it is coming, that it will happen. And I know I'm doing the right thing for him and Ash and me... but I wonder if I am my mother, who left when I was 5 and never came back until I was a teen, who left me to be abused and battered and ruined as a kid.
I know I'm different. I know that I won't give up involvement in Tristan's life. I know that I will talk to him and see him as often as I can and that he will NEVER stop being my son. I know that, in my perfect world, there would be no way I would leave him if I had ANY other option - and that fact, right there, makes me different than my mother. She COULD have taken us, but chose not to. I don't have a choice. He is not really mine.
In the end it will be better for him and me to take away the power of holding that fact over my head. If it is not something that can be used as a weapon, then he can't be caught in the middle. If I'm not so close to Kim, then we can't fight where he gets caught in the middle. He won't be so torn for us being too close and caught in this epic battle of who controls whom. And I need to cut the ties to being controlled by her and Brian more than almost anything else in my life. I need to stop letting them have that kind of power over me.
Maybe I am just seeking reassurance that I am doing the right thing. Maybe I just need to hear that I am not a horrible mom and that I am doing the right thing. And to have my hand held while I have to walk away from him at the airport. That will be the hardest day of my life, I think.
Sometimes it hurts how much I love my kids.
0 comments:
Post a Comment