An Uncomfortable Story

    I have written about my oldest child, and my youngest child. But so far, not my middle child. In order to be fair, this needs to be rectified. But unfortunately, it's not a happy story. I moved in with a man, and in a few months, found myself pregnant. He eventually asked me to marry him, and that took place in the town hall, in front of a judge, with no family present. About two weeks before the birth of our son.

   We had a very turbulent relationship, to say the least. After less than three years of Hell, I decided it was time to take my children and go. I found an apartment that I could afford, and it was when I was packing our things that he decided to inform me that he would not allow me to take our son with me. My need was so desperate that I eventually I agreed to this. If that was the price I needed to pay for my sanity and freedom, then that is what I would have to find the strength to do. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my entire life.

   All I could do was hope that his father would be good to him. I also hoped against hope that someday he would seek me out and find me. And that I would be given a chance to explain the situation to him. Of course, I never forgot about him. Over the years, I thought about him all the time. I had a few pictures of him when he was young, and hung them on the wall everywhere I lived. Even after I found the man of my dreams, my current beloved Hubs.

   Well, eventually, there was a knock on our door, and my son's then-fiance spoke to Hubs. They were getting married, and she wanted his mother to be there. We had quite an uncomfortable reunion, but Hubs and I did attend their wedding, along with my other two kids. My youngest had never even knew he had a brother. He was shocked to say the least. Hubs and I had decided not to say anything, in case I never heard from him.

   We now see each other occasionally, and I now have two beautiful grandchildren. They are blessed with these babies, they are exceptional, to say the least. Of course, in the interest of privacy, I have omitted a great many details that you, dear readers, do not really need to know. But this story is factual, and it still pains me to this day. One of the things he said to me the first time we met, was that he had no idea what I looked like, since there were no photos of me in their house when he was growing up. This really made me sad.

   The funny thing is that I sometimes have to see my ex-husband at the family affairs. At first, I was terrified, but it seems he has mellowed quite a bit in the last 20+ years. But I still am wary of him. I may have forgiven, and that took many many years, but I will never forget. At least the ex has moved kind of far away, so I don't have to worry about running into him in town.

   I feel better having told this story. And again, in the interest of fairness, I thought it only right that I talk about it. So I missed all of the important things in my older son's growing up years. And that makes me sad too.