Recently I have been fed up with life, not in the way that one might feel suicidal, but the feeling in need of rest and peace.
One week before my flight to see my son graduate from middle school, I started to feel sad, making me cry at how much time I had lost as a mother.
I keep telling myself I should feel happy; I will see him graduate, and I am in a position to afford such luxury.
No one tells a mother who loves her child without a whole soul that life away from him will be her biggest challenge.
Over the years, after being far from him, I tried so many things to suppress my grief and pain many things to stop my grief and pain over the years.
There don’t have many mothers like me out there.
That’s what I did; I knew I was moving to a third-world country and didn’t take him with me because Trinidad was no place for a child like him. I disliked Trinidad, and a court would not grant me any rights, and I had no money.
Before leaving, my housekeeper told me, “Melissa, you did the best you could,” her words made me see that I did the best; deep down inside my best was not enough for my pain and regrets.
I struggle daily with being so very far away from my son.