Promise, that when you think of me,
You will remember me
Remember me when I was young,
my eyes how they shined
Remember the blonde hair that cascaded
my strong arms for my mothering tasks
Remember the way I could hold my child in the air
my strong legs to carry their weight on my hips
Remember the clever wit, and laughter
my voice that sang sweet songs for you
Remember not the deterioration of my memories
Remember not the slow death of my voice
Remember not, remember not this bane
Remember not this bane that takes my mind.

Yes, you may see the situation and think, "That poor boy never sees his Mom, she's never around, she just left him"  But here is what you don't see, you don't see the years I endured an abusive controlling husband for the sake of that boy and his sisters. You don't see that the day I left, the day I ran in fear, that day, I took all of my children. I took my son with me. The only choices I know how to make, are the ones that I think God wants me to for my children. So you don't see how I struggled with my heart when my boy asked to go back to his father. You don't see how I prayed, weighed and measured to determine if that would be the right choice. You don't see how I feel like a failure as a mother. You won't see the nights I cry myself to sleep praying from the depths of my soul  that God is taking care of him, comforting my boy, tending to his broken heart. You won't see the tears behind my sunglasses when I see a little brown eyed round faced boy in the park hugging his Mommy. My wound, this grief is always fresh and is pricked by the slightest of reminders. You don't see how my soul aches everyday that I can't tell him I love him, I can't guide his school lessons, or hear his laugh, hear him practicing his drums, or hold him in my arms. He is my boy, my first born. I did everything I knew how to do for my boy and his sisters. This separation, it is the cruelest thing I have ever known. My son and I walk around, apart, separate, living lives of such intolerable pain. If he chooses not to see me, how can I help him heal? If he refuses my efforts, how can I do anything? I pray, I pray...and I pray.  He believes he is a man now. After all, that is how I raised him. I wanted him to rise up and be the man God calls him to be. He is choosing this path, he is choosing to go his way. Maybe I need to stop praying for my boy, and begin to pray for my young man.  My young man, go and follow, love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength. I will watch from the distance, I will watch as you go, always knowing that you are because for a time, God let me be your Mom.

My James,
I'll love you forever
I'll like you for always
As long as I'm living
My baby you'll be