Memorial Day is a day to remember those gone before us, and to give thanks to all our service men and women. I am extremely grateful for those who serve(d) in the armed forces, and I do thank them.

My thoughts today are not on relatives who are gone, but instead on my son. After yesterday’s disaster, we are still providing line of sight supervision and I am angry about it. I am angry about what was planned to be a very fun family weekend. We were going to go see Shrek the Third, attend a chocolate festival in Burlington, WI, do some yard work, attend a parade, take a walk as a family, etc. Those things were either cancelled or are on hold. This is a scenario that is all too familiar to me, and I’m burned out on it.

On the way to church this morning, we heard the song “Drive” by Alan Jackson. If you’re not familiar with it, it is a beautiful song with the first two verses about his memories with his father, and the third verse about the memories he is building with his daughters. You can read all the lyrics here. My husband looked at me and said “I have the first two, but I’ll never had the third” referring to building memories with Sammy. Many of our memories are bad ones. The sight of my 12 year old son being removed in handcuffs is not one for the family scrapbook. We do have some good memories, but they are not appreciated by Sammy.

Following is a poem I wrote a couple of years ago. It is still pretty true, except for the last line. My hope for Sammy is pretty much diminished or gone these days.

I Grieve

I grieve for the children never born
To the mothers who so desperately wanted them

I grieve for the children who were born
To mothers who couldn’t care for them

I grieve for the children stuck in the past
Watching life pass them by
Unable to reach out
And grab it for themselves

I grieve for the child I have
For the early start to his life
Something no child should ever endure

I grieve the son I have “lost”
When I offer him all the “cures”
And he is too afraid to try
The dreams of kisses and hugs
And fun days in the park
Dreams of laughing and smiling
Of building family traditions
Dreams of a “normal” happy family
Shot down, stuck in a spiral of chaos.

I grieve for the child
Who I love desperately
But dreams of his birthmother
Coming back for him

I grieve for the days gone by
That can never be reclaimed
The milestones I didn’t share with him
And the days when there was no joy
Because his illness will not allow it

I grieve for the future
Knowing he will hit rock bottom
Before he can pull himself up

I grieve for the man I know he can become
But may never achieve

I grieve for the children I lost
Who are growing up without me
And calling someone else Mama
Who never leave my heart or my thoughts

I grieve for the family I have lost
Because they don’t understand
And don’t want to learn

I grieve knowing the circle will continue
That other children will suffer
That other mothers will bear their children’s pain
I grieve every day
But I can’t, and won’t, give up hope

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