I think about The Little Man all the time. Every day. I talk about him in class. I wonder how he is… but I try not to think about it; I know that he and I won’t have long heart to hearts again for a long, long time, if ever. I know it is going to be a long, tough road for him and there’s little I can do about it now.
It’s hard to know the right thing to do. There are no models to follow, no guidelines; I’m in completely uncharted territory. I send him presents to let him know I’m thinking of him, but I think maybe I should just leave him alone. I miss the times when he and I were by ourselves and quietly talking. I don’t miss the violence and the craziness (for lack of a better word). I miss being his Mom, though. It’s an emptiness and shock I don’t think will ever go away.