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I was digging through a box of photos the other day to send one to my daughter, and when I found it, I got busy and didn’t put the box away.

So, today, I straightened it up, and found a slip of paper, it had a poem on it from many years ago…  Reading it, I thought it was still quite appropriate in one sense, and not so in another.

My lost ones…

You aren’t here
My arms are empty.
Your smiles I can’t see,
Your rooms dusty.

I see my son’s eyes in the sky
My daughters in the trees.
My softly cried “Why?”
Left hanging in the breeze.

One day you’ll know
The price I’ve paid
Never watching you grow
And now I’m afraid…

Your memories of me will fade…

I didn’t date this, but it was in a box of pictures from when my kids were in their early teens.  During the time when nearly every phone call was met with ‘they aren’t here’.  My kids have a feeling of abandonment, that I can’t change because they were so programmed into thinking I didn’t care about them – along with how bad I supposedly was.

Today, I wrote to my son again, even after his threat of legal action.  He has to know, I never gave up on them, why else would I try so hard?  Will he read it?  At this point, I have know idea.  I hope so.  And I hope he comes to realize it’s not harassment, its love that keeps me trying.

I’ll never give up on him.

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