November 8, 2002

I’m just lying here at 12:00am. I can’t sleep. My body is tired but my mind just keeps racing. These are those nights when thoughts of my past occur.

I’m thinking of my mom, which I do every great while. I wonder where she is and what she’s doing. I wonder if she thinks of us and if so, what does she think about? Does she not realize how much older the kids are or wonder how they’re doing as they grow or what they must look like? Or if any of us have kids yet? Cameron was only 2 years old when she left and now he’s 13.

Is she ok? Is she still with Donny? I hope not. And if so, I pray he doesn’t hurt her. Is she getting high? I wonder if she thinks of us on our birthdays.

Sometimes I think it’s my fault she doesn’t come back. My intentions were to tell her that if she doesn’t come around when she’s supposed to, then don’t come at all. Just stay away and then maybe the kids would stop expecting her when she didn’t show up. And then maybe they would move on with their lives and get over her. But still, never forgetting her.

I wanted to tell her that last time I saw her but I can’t remember if I did. I don’t remember much of our conversation last time I saw her. All I can remember is seeing her get off that train, stepping onto the platform and I couldn’t get to her through all the people so I screamed for her. Mom! Mom! But she could not reply to ‘mom’ because who would call her that. I think she liked to forget she’s a mom. It bothers me when she denies me.

She is so selfish, only thinking of herself. She always did. It hurts to know she doesn’t love us. I guess she’s just sick. Then how can she when she doesn’t love herself. I can’t understand how a person can’t love their kids. ‘Why?’

I don’t understand how you leave and don’t look back. How do you live everyday?

I pray to God he’ll put her back in my path but I know it is in His time, his will, when he thinks it’s time. I just pray the next time I see her, it’s not in a box.

Once, if it’s one time, I’d be ok with that. I still love her even if she doesn’t love me.

I always picture how it would be when we meet again. Sometimes I see her coming into my restaurant. Like she’s a customer or running into her on the street or when she finally calls.

When I see her, does she have a black eye and busted lip? Is she wearing sun glasses to hide her scars? Is she drunk or sober? Is she pretty or worn out? What is she wearing? Is her hair still the same? Will she hug me and cry or will she smile? Then, will I try and hold her there and try to take her with me and protect her or will she do what she’s always done and run away when I turn my back for just a split second? Will she stay in my life after that or will that be the last time and then never again? Forever.

Or will this day never come at all?

Only God can tell.

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