Birthday Reflections


I had a good birthday this year.   Even without hearing from the most important person in the world to me – my son.  It held simple, quiet pleasures, yet mixed with profound grief.  As a very involved, stay-at-home Mom, the centerpiece was something so simple but priceless – a hand-made treasure from my sweet young son, catching fireflies after fireworks, and of course lots of hugs and kisses.  What parent, no matter how old their children are, cannot still feel their children’s arms wrapped around their neck or their small hand clasped gently in their own, even decades later? The last birthday I celebrated with my son, in 2009, before the campaign, was one of the best ever;  a wonderful day trip, then home to the baking of my cake together, as we always did.  My son, donning his special apron, promptly took over frosting and creating his own design!  His perfect birthday cake includes loads of chocolate and maraschino cherries!  He set about his task like a master artisan, painstakingly writing “Happy Birthday, Mom!”!  All of this from a boy who had such difficulty writing in school that he needed occupational therapy!  But the writing on this cake was PERFECT!!! By the following year he refused to even acknowledge me at all.  (In truth, the brainwashing occurred very quickly.)  By 2010, he refused to even eat a single slice of his favorite chocolate cake. My dear, sweet sensitive son bore unimaginable pressure. The experts are right when they talk of that six month window.  Within six months you can convince a child of just about anything, provided you are obsessed with hatred, intimidation, and manipulation.  Now my wonderful child is merely doing what he has to do to survive. By 7 a.m. 38 people had wished me a Happy Birthday.  When the day was done, the number was over 100.  Calls, cards, messages, all for the so-called “crazy lady”, or just the garden variety “hysterical female”, who dares to raise objections to all of this horror.  But nothing from the one who really matters – my only child, who is somewhere out there, living, breathing, and walking around.  At least so they tell me.  To say that I miss my son is so inadequate.  The French say it best:  “You are missing from me.” (Tu me manques.)  “Son, I pray for you all the time.  Not an hour goes by that I don’t think of you.  But mostly, I want you to come home.   All can be discussed. Everything worked out.   Until next year, then.  Let’s make the best chocolate cake ever!!!  I love you!!!  Now and always.  Love, Mom

8 thoughts on “Birthday Reflections

  1. Jeanette Dunse

    My Dear Friend, I am so sorry to come to this place to understand some of your despair. Thank you for sharing this with us. I will be in earnest prayer and cover you with protection. Sorry, I am not good at this, but wanted to let you know that I will stand with you.


  2. Torn 2 Peaces

    This post breaks my heart. Yes, one’s own precious child can change quickly under the tutelage of a hateful parent. How horrifying that “professionals” who are tasked with protecting our children from being infected with such sick, abusive fathers, instead empower domestic abuse. Parental Alienation abuses the entire family. It’s a wonder some class action lawsuits don’t come of it. Will step moms who assist these abusive men also be sued for alienation of affection as well as these “men” & these “professionals” who failed in their duties? I wonder even though I don’t think court is the answer. These kids & those who influence them: friends, neighbors, friends’ parents, teachers, college professors, clergy, etc., must be educated. It seems police officers understand Parental Alienation & how vulnerable youth are to manipulation, but those with PhDs act clueless. I hope others will join me in sharing this post & others with as many people & organizations as possible. Testimony is important, & I thank you for yours. I pray your love is transforming your child’s heart, even from a distance. Bless you. 😦



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