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Thirteen years ago, I had my heart ripped from my chest. It was a hurt that would never go away. A pain that would leave a scar so deep that it would affect me for the rest of my life. That was the day my son, Anthony, chose to live with his father. It brings tears to my eyes...still. He was twelve, the age when a child could be brought into court and asked to choose between his parents. Our battle never went to court - I never wanted Anthony to go through that. Our relationship was always good, but his father had more to offer at the time, and to a twelve year old boy, that meant a better life. I let him go. Those four little words still haunt me. I let him go. I didn't want him to resent me if I fought for him to stay. I. Let. Him. Go.
Over the years, Anthony has gained so much respect for my husband and I and the life we lead. Anthony and I are in two different states now, but he continues to call us for big moments in his life, and even though we are close, my heart still aches for him. I feel like I was given a puzzle on the day he was born, and I was only permitted enough time to finish half of it before it was taken away from me. Even though I did a great job with the first half, someone else was allowed to complete that puzzle and get the satisfaction of the final product.
Over the years, I've felt so guilty for allowing him to go...not fighting for him to stay...not finishing that puzzle. Even after all of these years, I still can't talk about it without crying.
Well, this past weekend, Anthony got married. He and his wife, Allison, chose a destination wedding in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. We were able to attend, although no one else on Anthony's side could...including his father. I felt blessed that I could witness their celebration (I don't think a team of horses could have held me back). Throughout the wedding weekend, I observed Allison, her children, her mother and sister, and and the bride and groom's closest friends. I loved them all. I felt connected to a part of Anthony's life that I never felt before. It was in those moments that I realized something that never before crossed my mind. If Anthony hadn't gone to live with his father, his path would have been different. He would not have these wonderful people in his life today, and Allison and her children would not be a part of our family now.
April 4, 2014, was the day I recognized that I had been holding that final puzzle piece in my heart the whole time, and as I witnessed my son's marriage, I handed that last piece over to Allison. And, as I let the tears flow while they exchanged vows, I understood my job was done and I. Let. Him. Go.
Over the years, I've felt so guilty for allowing him to go...not fighting for him to stay...not finishing that puzzle. Even after all of these years, I still can't talk about it without crying.
Well, this past weekend, Anthony got married. He and his wife, Allison, chose a destination wedding in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. We were able to attend, although no one else on Anthony's side could...including his father. I felt blessed that I could witness their celebration (I don't think a team of horses could have held me back). Throughout the wedding weekend, I observed Allison, her children, her mother and sister, and and the bride and groom's closest friends. I loved them all. I felt connected to a part of Anthony's life that I never felt before. It was in those moments that I realized something that never before crossed my mind. If Anthony hadn't gone to live with his father, his path would have been different. He would not have these wonderful people in his life today, and Allison and her children would not be a part of our family now.
April 4, 2014, was the day I recognized that I had been holding that final puzzle piece in my heart the whole time, and as I witnessed my son's marriage, I handed that last piece over to Allison. And, as I let the tears flow while they exchanged vows, I understood my job was done and I. Let. Him. Go.
