I have decided that I will just go ahead and have cry-baby break down.. In the court room. I know when I see my son I’m going to want to cry and weep and wail and even scream but instead I’ll just let the depression and the sadness and the months of darkness take over. I’ll let them have their way… I will let the tears flow. I will cry and not hold back. So this is my official, mental note to myself, to buy some fucking Kleenex … because I am going to need it.
The time is soon approaching.
The court Martial and sentencing of my son.
I remember our last conversation…
He called me to tell me he had been arrested, but didn’t understand why.
I told him that his sister told me everything.
That was 6 months ago. He has not called me again since he found out that I know the truth.
I have been an emotional wreck. I’m having to be strong for my daughter, yet this is my son… My other older children ask me if I’ll ever contact him…
This is my response: “he is my son. I will always love him, but his crimes have forever changed our relationship.”
As the day approaches I envision seeing him in that court room…with his head hung low…no eye contact made…
I have no idea if I’ll be able to stay strong. No idea if I’ll start sobbing as if it were a death – Gawd knows that’s what this feels like – no idea his reaction or my reaction.
I just want it to be behind me.
But
As the day draws closer… I want to write him a letter… Just to remind him that I still love him.
Yoli's Write To Sanity 