The Boy, my Broken Heart & Questions

After keeping everything together for the past few weeks, I fell apart tonight now that I am back in Seattle. I have been having a few challenges at work which I settled out with my manager this afternoon. I talked to my good friend Ellen. She told me her problems which made me feel like a good friend.

And then I lost it. I cried for about a half an hour or so. After spending two weeks with the Boy, I realized how much I miss him. In the past year, I wasn't his day-to-day mom. Someone else was given in loco parentis. Then for the past two weeks, I was there when he went to bed and I was there when he woke up. 

We stayed at a vacation home that was owned by a man who had been to treatment as a teenager, much like the Boy is in now. When Jack told the guy where the Boy was at school, the man asked if the Boy had been to Wilderness Therapy, too. The man's question was an answer to a question that wasn't asked. The only people who know about Wilderness are people who have gone themselves or who have a family member or good friend who has gone. Outsiders don't know that this world exists.

Seeing this man, running his own successful business, was cool. He has a family and seemed like a nice guy. It showed me that there is hope for the Boy and fellow students to get better, to recover, to heal.

Still, I miss the Boy. I've seen how far he's come and how much he has grown. Before, I didn't miss him as much. The idea of him getting much needed help overrode the pain of separation. Now that he is getting better, I miss him more.