I can never express how much it hurts to be abandoned by your mother
but I do know that it hurts more knowing you've lost valuable time with people you love
I lost watching my little brother grow up.
I lost contact with everyone. My grandparents, my brothers, my step dad, my cousins
At first I blamed my dad because he moved me as far away as he could from that whole mess
but it wasn't his fault. And often I am glad I grew up away from that chaos. even if I had my own chaos here.
I remember the night my mother got arrested, after running for nearly three years.
I remember holding my little brother in my arms while he slept through it. I remember holding his ears so he wouldn't hear it. I remember the police men, the flashing lights.
We (my mother, my brother, and I) were sleeping in the same bed that night. At my grandmas house, hiding. My stepdad had left the day before to run to Salt Lake City. He got caught later that week.
I heard the door fly open to our room. I heard grandma begging the police men to be quite, because the kids where sleeping in the same bed. They were not very quiet. The light came on. My eyes had a haze on them as I tried to focus on the men that came through the door. Mom got up quickly. There were some words exchanged. Grandma asked me to roll over and go back to sleep. Why did these men want my mom so badly? Mom was told to pack socks and underwear and nothing else. She did, and then she was cuffed and escorted out of the house. I was so scared I didn't move. I wanted to get up and shout at the men, I wanted to scream. But I held onto my brother, and cried silently.
nothing was ever explained to us. I was 6, my brother was 2.
I visited mom in jail a few times, talked to her through the glass on a phone. I managed to get a few sit in visits with her. One of which she went crazy during. I said something she didn't like, and she started shouting. Before I knew what was happening two men came in the visiting room and cuffed her and took her away. I only saw her one more time after that. it was a short visit, only a few minutes. My mother told me lies about my fathers, things that would make me not trust him.
When I got home that night I told my dad what she had said. He told me then, that I would not be visiting my mother for a while.
A few weeks after that my dads mom, my nanny, came to meet me, for what I thought was the first time. I had met her as a very small child, but had no memory. She was very kind.
She stayed with us until the school year was over, and I flew back to Virginia with her. (From Montana)
My little brother was not so fortunate. Its heart breaking. Both of his parents went to jail. He had to stay with mom's mom. Mom's dad had committed suicide not long before that.
Grandma wasn't doing so well.
I remember getting on the plane, i had a baby doll in my lap, and sat in the loading room. Dalten and Grandma stood on the other side of the glass, I watched them from my seat. I kept making silly faces at Dalten to get him to smile. He'd make them back. He was holding his bear, "plaid Pete", in his arms. And had his face pressed up against the glass. Drool fell from his bottom lip and slid down the glass like a slug. Grandma held a death glare on my Nanny. She bent down and whispered something in Daltens ears. His face fell, and then tears accompanied his drool on the glass. I looked at Nanny confused. She grabbed my hand. "We have to go now, the plane is here" We stood up, I waived to Dalten then turned and walked with Nanny onto the plane.
That was the last time I saw him.
After that he lived with grandma until she died a few years later (4-5). At the time Mom had been released on good behavior and had married another man. So Dalten went to live with her. She had another child named James, I have never met him. Dalten lived with them until mom got arrested again a few years after that. (2-3) At that point I was 13. Dalten then lived with Moms husband for a few years. I am not sure what happened, I am not sure why. I had zero contact with everyone for the next three years. At age 16 I got a card from my ex-stepdad. It was a picture of him and his "new" family. Dalten was not in the picture. I suddenly realized that I had no idea where Dalten was so I contacted social services to find my little brother. He was 12 at the time. I did not know why his dad did not have him, I assumed that would be where he went, but it wasn't. Social Services located him with his Aunt Sue, Aunt Sue then told me she as trying to get Craig to take custody of him, but there were some issues. I then decided that I wanted to take custody of him, but to do so I would have to either be 18 or get emancipated. And even then it would be harder for me to get custody because I still didn't support myself. So I asked dad. But my dad was in a very dark place at this point and couldn't handle another teenager. So I contacted Craig to find out what was going on. Eventually Craig took custody and Dalten moved in with him at age 13.
Dalten is now 18, and graduating. I am finally going to get to see him after all of this. I am thrilled. But I am also sad. I know how much we missed, not being around each other. And I know he doesn't really remember me. But I hope once I see him (and the rest of my brothers!) Some of my sadness will disappear. I have been talking to my mom for the first time in 6, and actually having conversations with her, which has never happened before. So I know I am forgiving her. But I know the pain isn't going to go away. Since talking to her, and being in contact with my brothers, and arranging times to see all of them I have felt more solid, more grounded, and less chaotic. but I have also gotten older. It hurts the most when I see/hear other stories from people good and bad, but especially the bad. I hear and read stories of children who loose a parent one way or another and they talk about how they had each other, their siblings to help them pull through. And I know I had my dad, and we helped each other. But I feel different because I have all of the brothers, that went through many of the same things I did, but we didn't go through it together. So all of our stories are very different, and we are very different. And sometimes I get so caught up in thinking about what if we had all stayed together, would we still be so different?
I know the things that hurt me. And I know the things that have put dents in my mental health, my perception. I wonder how many dents they have, how much do they hurt? How much do they love?
It's not something we really talk about because its too hard.
and im a big cry baby
I can't wait to see them. I wish I knew how to act.
this is a sadness that I know will never go away
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