My beloved son left over a year ago. I can remember his last night with us so vividly. I wish I knew it would be the last time I would see him. I should have wondered why he came down to dinner right away, usually he lingers. I should have questioned why he sat outside with us and didn’t say a word. He is normally very talkative, and you can’t get in a word. The day before he had been his regular talkative self. There had been no confrontations, and nothing had happened recently that was out of the ordinary.
After dinner, I picked grapes from the vine I was growing in the yard. The grapes were so sweet and good. I encouraged him to eat them, but he shook his head no, and stayed silent. It was unusual for him. He normally is very adventurous and enthusiastic about all the things I grew in my garden. How would I have known the rejection of the grapes was a sign?
This year I didn’t even pick the grapes, I let them wilt on the vine. It was too painful. It never occurred to me that my son would leave and never want to see us again. This rejection of us is a dagger through my heart.
I wake up every day hoping for news that this trans medical nightmare will end, and my brainwashed son will come out of his gender trance. The news feels hopeful some days but discouraging on others. It seems like two steps forward and one step back.
I was driving my car the other day and looking around thinking, is this really my life? It feels like I’m living in a science fiction movie. I’m not sure what is real, and what is fake. I start to question my memories. Was I a good mother? Was this really a happy home? Were we really close? Am I remembering it all correctly? I’ve learned that gender is about something else, and my son was using it as an excuse to find out who he was, and he needed to pull away. He had to separate from his parents the only way he knew how. I now wonder if by standing my ground it led him out the door. Should I have been more sympathetic? What should I have done differently? I couldn’t live a lie. My mind plays tricks on me. I just want the movie to end.
I find myself isolated. It’s so hard to be around a group of friends who all think everything is normal. It is far from normal. They accept all the new societal changes and are trying to make their children proud by going along with this generation's new gender trends. Most of their children all claim to be some type of queer, but they are heterosexual. The parents think they are being current, and they don’t see the danger, but their kids could choose the trans path too. I feel judged for our son leaving, and I don’t want to talk about it with them. I can no longer relate to the people I used to hang around. My husband doesn’t let it bother him. He encourages me to come to gatherings, but I can’t. I choose isolation. Not out of pity but out of protection for myself and my needs.
Today is my birthday. I miss my son terribly. Every holiday is a terrible reminder of his missing presence, but I have decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and move on and find the joy in everyday life.
I need to now trust I did the best job I could, and I gave my son a good foundation. I must wait for my precious son to come back into my life. I am going to choose to think about, not if he’s coming back, but when, and I’ll be patient for my prodigal son to return.