Hopeful Email.

Since speaking to our nephew concerning Older Son, I've left one voice mail message. It was very short and very vague, and I've wanted to post an email with a little more information. Until this morning, I didn't feel settled or confident enough to write anything.

After speaking with Daughter and especially Tall One, and some other close confidants, I decided to stop operating under D.I.L.ly's bizarre, ever changing expectations. I decided to once again treat my son honestly as a rational adult. I feel good about the email, the wording and the timing. When Tall One gets home from his golf game and charity event, I'll have him read it, and call O.S. to let him know we sent it.

Following is the message:

Dear O.S.,
Dad and I have been wanting to send you an email since talking to Oldest Nephew. We left one voice message on your phone, but, we want to communicate a little more about how we feel. We want you to have all the time you need to decide when (and if) to contact us.

I was sad to hear that D.I.L.ly left. Dad and I are so proud of the way you supported her. We wouldn't have expected any less. I have missed you awfully this past year, and I hate what we all went through before you left for New England. Master's mentioned that you picked up a van and spent a night at their home. Isn't it nice? I love the old woodwork, and the way they've arranged everything. And having Dairy Queen across the street? Master's said that you plan to travel, so did Oldest Nephew. I can imagine you doing that. I hope that I can hear of your adventures.

Dad and I have friends in New England. We went to visit them last fall. That's very close to where you live. It was beautiful. We could imagine you living in the mountains and loving that area. Nana shared your letter with me. I was so happy to hear that you were hiking and fishing. I always thought of you as happy. My heart is broken for you O.S., that you were not...that D.I.L.ly was not.

I am not angry. I never was. Breaking our relationship is the hardest, most hurtful thing I have ever done. I did it because I could see the hurt and anger in your eyes. I wouldn't come between you and your wife, I wouldn't make you feel like you had to choose. I never expected you to choose any other course of action than taking care of D.I.L.ly, and trying your best to make her happy and meet her needs. That's really what I had always hoped to do as a mother-in-law. I love D.I.L.ly. It just became impossible to live with her.

My biggest hope is that you will show up at our door. Maybe on your way to Your End Destination? Maybe you are already in Your End Destination!! My second greatest hope would be to hear your voice on the phone. I can't tell you how exciting it was to hear your voice mail message! It was the same! I would equally love to see an email message from you!

I don't know how you are feeling toward me now. When I cut off contact in our last counseling session with you and D.I.L.ly, I accepted that responsibility. I still do. You have every right to see and talk to anyone in the family that you want to. I have not told Nana anything that I learned from Master's or Oldest Nephew. It is my understanding that Nana's "problem" is with D.I.L.ly - never with you. Daughter and Dude know what Oldest Nephew knows, he's talked with them. I have not talked with PhD about any of this, but he and Master's will be here next weekend, and I will most likely let him know that I've emailed you. If you feel more comfortable talking with or emailing Dad, please don't hesitate to do that! He misses you. Very much.

(Paragraph deleted. Contained personal information on relative for Older Son. Unrelated to our estrangement and possible reconciliation.)

I love you, O.S.
Mom

Addendum

I'm feeling much better today. More "centered", whatever that means! I've realized that no matter what the future holds for my relationship with our older son, he is free. My hope is that he uses this time to sort out all the vileness of the last couple of years. I want him to know it's not his fault.
I believe there is a fundamental, unchangeable, lack in D.I.L.ly's personality. I don't believe she can get "well". I don't think she will ever completely accept that there is something grossly "wrong".
So, I can wait....but not too long!

Hope Springs Eternal! (But at What Cost?)

It's been awhile since I've posted. I've been very distracted by 1.) the birth of Baby Girl, 2.) a week long trip to Peru, 3.) starting back to work, albeit 10-15 hours a week, but still, and 4.) SuperPokePets.

More on ALL of those later...

Monday, early evening, Daughter called, "Mom, it's nothing bad, but I have to talk to you and Dad right away." Well, let me tell you, THAT was the longest 3 minute, one mile drive in history! When we got to Daughter's house, she told us that our Oldest Nephew had been calling her repeatedly and leaving messages, and that they finally got to talk right before she called Tall One and me. O.N. doesn't get on his MySpace account very often, but apparently, about a week ago he did. He is "friends" with D.l.L.ly. He clicked onto her page and noticed that 1.) there were no pictures of O.S., 2.) there were pictures of D.I.L.ly and her "host family", and 3.) she listed her status as "single". Curious and curiouser.

O.N. contacted Daughter for O.S.'s cell phone number, and over the weekend called. D.I.L.ly left O.S. about a month and a half ago, things have been awful for a year. D.I.L.ly told O.S. that she has no feelings for him and doesn't know why they ever got married. I think she may have said she never loved him...but I may be projecting through hearing of this, what, third hand? D.I.L.ly is living with a "host family" (whatever that is) in New England. O.S. is still living with the friend he and D.I.L.ly moved in with originally. O.S. has the dog.

O.S. also told his cousin that he wasn't sure he could ever make things right with his family. Or something eluding to that sentiment. O.N. told him that family always sticks by you, and O.N. would know. He's had his fair share of serious life altering problems...but, we all love him, and we're supporting him the best we know how.

Tied into all of this "information" is the phone call I had with Master's, our younger son's wife, a little over a week ago. She told me that she hasn't talked to D.I.L.ly in a long time, but that she and PhD, our younger son, had a phone call from O.S. a few weeks ago. He was in Ohio, picking up a van that he had purchased, and wanted to stay over at their home on his way to driving back to New England. Master's told me that he was planning on traveling (in the van), and this information was confirmed by O.N.'s phone conversation with O.S. Master's gave no indication that she knew of the separation, or that D.I.L.ly and O.S. were having problems.

So, that's the background information. Now for the emotional turmoil.

1.) (I'm all about numbers, and points of order in this post, aren't I?) I can't believe that our son has to go through this alone. The entire time that D.I.L.ly and O.S. were "officially" an "item" they were virtually inseparable. O.S. was relentlessly and systematically cut off from his friends and family. There were times when we remarked about their obvious lack of a need for anyone, or anything outside of their relationship...but, we were really ok with that, it was just different.

2.) I can't believe that O.S. sold his home, quit a job that he loved, put his possessions into storage and moved hundreds of miles away, to be "abandoned" in less than a year.

3.) My initial reaction was, "Get in the car we'll talk on the road!". I want to see my son.

4.) I'm glad that I wasn't able to act on my first impulse. Through talking with my husband and daughter and her husband, and calling my nephew, I realize that a month and a half of separation isn't that long...and there may be lots of reasons to give O.S. some time. Would it be easier for him to begin renewed contact with a letter or email? Would he actually receive either of those? There was a time when we weren't at all sure that O.S. saw emails, or received phone messages. Could D.I.L.ly still have access to those avenues of communication?

5.) I have no idea what O.S. believes about our estrangement, about the awful stories and our hellacious motives that D.I.L.ly clung to so tenaciously in spite of our best efforts to explain. I have no idea how deeply entrenched the one-sided distortions and outright lies have become, what valid and true memories have been displaced.

6.) Maybe O.S. is somewhat relieved. Although, I would imagine, lost and bewildered.

7.) D.I.L.ly may come back some day.

So, for now we've adopted a "wait and see" attitude. I can't tell you how many times a day I take out my cell phone and just look at it. I have refrained, thus far, from actually scrolling for O.S.'s number. Checking my email has taken on a new urgency. Every time our shop phone rings, I pray.

I don't feel well. Sometimes I can hardly breath. Now, that the opportunity presents itself, I WANT MY SON BACK. I want to talk to him on the phone, go and see where he's been living, take walks with the dog, eat his home made bread, find out about his job, discuss his travel plans, find out if he has cable, or Internet, I want a HUG.

I really can't discuss this with any other family members than the ones already involved. The last times I saw O.S. he was extremely angry with me for "turning the family against" D.I.L.ly (her words, not his). He couldn't understand why I had to talk about things to my mother. Things that D.I.L.ly had talked to her about FIRST. I was doing damage control on a situation I didn't want and hadn't precipitated.

Tall One and Dude are ecstatic! Almost giddy. But, both are realistic. This could take years and D.I.L.ly could come back, and then we would have to distance ourselves again. Daughter is supportive. It hasn't even been 48 hours, and I feel like it's been months.

My hope is that O.S. will reach out on Mother's Day. Or on Tall One's birthday, the next day. Either of those gestures would be huge. Holiday's and birthday's were never a big deal with immediate family. We acknowledge them with a card or gift and perhaps dinner. It's never been a measure of our love for one another, at least in Tall One's or my mind. And, the gesture doesn't have to be to us. If O.S. would call Nana. Or, if I would hear something from PhD. Anything that would indicate that O.S.'s separation was "public". Our nephew told us that O.S. would be making some phone calls this week.

I'm trying to stay cerebral about all of this. When I begin to feel, I find myself completely crushed. Burdened enough to never be able to stand under the weight. I can't even begin to imagine what would happen if I would hear O.S.'s voice on the other end of the phone...but that's what I want more than anything.

What's the Worst That Could Happen?

I'm feeling a bit distracted, well, OK, a lot distracted. Daughter gave us a bit of a scare the other weekend. She's dangerously near the end of her pregnancy. Like Bigger One, and Baby, this Little Girl has dropped and Daughter is in a lot of pain with her "split hips" and general pregnancy related discomfort. Two weekends ago, Daughter spent Sunday on our sofa. She didn't look well. She felt ill, had steady contractions, and we weren't sure if she was starting labor - and, boy if she would have been, it didn't look like it was going to be easy. Fortunately she had a doctor's appointment on Monday. Unfortunately, they couldn't tell her anything. Doc scheduled an ultrasound for Tuesday because Daughter had lost weight and her abdomen wasn't measuring as large as two weeks before. Daughter was still feeling awful, really awful, so Tall One and I kept the boys overnight. This was a blessed relief. They kept me occupied. I was more worried and scared than I wanted to admit. I couldn't even verbalize my concern or helplessness - just deny.

Tuesday morning, Daughter had the ultrasound, all is well with Baby Girl. She was about six pounds. Daughter rested. Dude picked everyone up from my house after work, and the house was too quiet, and I missed the boys.

Wednesday morning Daughter called, she had woke in the night with an ear ache, she was going to the doctor. It turned out she had an ear infection, was put on an antibiotic, and could now take Tylenol since she wasn't in labor. She felt much better, rapidly. I felt much better at a slower pace.

Pins and needles, needles and pins, isn't that an old pop song? I know it's an old cliche. But, that's me. For the last two weeks, I'm hyper in that nonproductive way of nervous anxiety. Fortunately, I worked for Wheeler three mornings this week. That tired me out a bit. And, I went to kickboxing Wednesday evening. That helped, too. But, I'm tremendously unfocused. Raw. Everything seems suspended. I can't quite breathe.

Tall One and I are going to Peru at the end of the month. I haven't even thought about it. I can't. ONE THING AT A TIME. Actually, my one thing at a time involves obsessive escapism. I'm online too much, distracting myself with books and TV shows. Anything to keep from thinking. When I do think, my mind is all over the place. There's an unfocused panic behind my eyes.

But, we don't have much longer to wait. My daughter is incredibly strong. My grandchildren are the delight of my life. On the other hand, in the back of my mind, where I will not go, can not stay, is the black knowledge that I couldn't bear it if Daughter died.

There, I've said it. Will that make it real, or will it now go far, far away where I never have to feel it again?

Hope or No Hope

Disclaimer: I'm not flipping out, finally losing it big-time. I'm amazed that even when things are relatively "quiet", there's still so much happening emotionally. I've really been struggling with sending O.S. a birthday card. And, mostly, because of that I've tried once again to analyze my motivations in our estrangement, and contemplate any ramifications of overt action. Also, sometime in February is the anniversary of the birthday dinner that launched all of the "mayhem and foolishness".

Isn't it "strange" how profoundly a simple pretense can affect us? I was amazed at the strength of the "alarm" I felt when, right before Christmas, D.I.L.ly sent a sarcastic email to some family members. It wasn't sent to me. It mentioned me only by implication. And, yet I felt punched in the gut. I found myself replaying everything, testing again all the decisions and consequences. Wondering, worrying, and internally bleeding.

I worried about the effects on my husband and daughter. I couldn't believe that, in spite of my "sacrifice", staying away and quiet, D.I.L.ly just might try and use me once again to bludgeon O.S.. That she was stirring, that it wasn't ever "over".

I read a book. I've actually read a whole lot of books...but I read one recently that "applies". It's called "The Sociopath Next Door", by Martha Stout. I AM NOT RECOMMENDING THIS BOOK. Read it if you want, it's easily understandable and absolutely fascinating. I read it in one sitting. I couldn't put it down. But, it's DANGEROUS to diagnose, to read anything into this situation without careful, thoughtful, skepticism. For estrangement, any estrangement, there are many causes and theories in abundance! I picked up this book, because, when all my problems with D.I.L.ly began there were strong indications that this was more than a personality conflict or a misunderstanding. D.I.L.ly was exhibiting even physical symptoms that something was seriously "wrong". I considered bi-polar disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder seemed a "better fit". I was strongly advised by our family counselor NOT to assume a diagnosis. I've been studious about that. But, there is something really, really broken or missing in D.I.L.ly. Something vast and frightening, something so HUGE, and yet I missed it or excused it, or ignored it, for over TEN YEARS!

I am not diagnosing my daughter-in-law! What caused me to pick up this book, was the wrongness of D.I.L.ly's emotions and reactions. The utter strangeness of the motivations she put on me, Daughter, and Tall One. The relentlessness. The feeling that nothing short of total annihilation would bring D.I.L.ly "peace". She truly wanted to destroy me. I began locking our doors. Tall One advised Dude to file a police report. I'm not in the habit of overreacting. Tall One is a study in calm apathetic denial.

But, even though I'm not allowed to diagnose, I gleaned some important insights from this book.

1). It was impossible for me to recognize or understand D.I.L.ly's mind. I do not have a point of reference. I could lock myself in a dark room, and by surviving, get a feel for what it's like to be blind. But, I can't take from my mind, the missing, broken part of D.I.L.ly, and then be able to empathize. The only thing I could do, which is common, is excuse, explain, or rationalize her actions within the framework of my experience. I couldn't see this coming. This is beyond my wildest imagination. I didn't fail her by missing something "fixable" or avoidable. It doesn't matter how much I love her, how much I hurt for her. She is beyond my reach.

2). D.I.L.ly is beyond repair. I will never be able to have a relationship with her, and therefore, I will never be able to have a relationship with O.S. while she is his wife. This is how we raised him, for better or worse. This is what we counseled him to do. I am O.S.'s mother, I will always be his mother, nothing will ever change that. But, I will not allow anyone to use me to hurt my children if it's in my power to try and prevent that. I will remove myself from O.S.'s life so that he never has to choose, and so that D.I.L.ly doesn't have the opportunity to rant and harp and make his life a living hell over ME. I will go to extreme lengths to be invisible to D.I.L.ly, so that her focus is off of me, and I am not the one to "cause" her "pain". Sooooooo.....

3). I'm not sending O.S. a birthday card. He will be 29 on February 8. When did a birthday card become a pivotal life changing decision? I can not be a part of O.S.'s life. I do not want a "reconciliation". I don't want my actions misinterpreted. My non-actions will be misinterpreted, I'm almost certain, if D.I.L.ly thinks about it, but her focus is totally self-centered. She has limited "vision". So, if I don't move (don't do anything to draw attention to myself), she may not even think of me.

4). I trust my son. I don't have to deal with the issues of immaturity, and blatant disrespect that some mothers with estranged children struggle. O.S. was extremely angry with me. I've never seen him so angry. But, he was never abusive. And, neither of us has ever said anything to each other that needs to be "undone". Even, as I believe he still loves me, I trust he knows that I love him, and if he needs to, he will be able to make his way back.

5). And if he never makes it "home"? Before the estrangement, when I was locking my doors, and Daughter and Grandsons were practically living at my house when Dude wasn't home, I had to seriously consider the possibility of D.I.L.ly harming - ok, killing, my son. I have no "proof" of violence. She never threatened bodily harm. She never made a move to physically hurt any of us, and yet, it's there, lurking. Shouldn't I just storm their home and drag my son away? Put him in "deprogramming"? Save him? I choose not to. I understand O.S.'s love for D.I.L.ly. I understand that he would gladly sacrifice anything for her. I respect that. He would not thank me. He has to see this through, where ever it goes. And, I have to let him. Ok, this is EXTREME. But, in a less martyr-ish scenario? Even if I do see him again, what will I get back, who will he be? I have to accept that inevitability.

5). I will concentrate on the people that love me, and that I can have in my life. I will continue to reach out to those I can, even though I'm scared.

6). None of this makes it hurt any less.

I don't know that O.S. will ever come back. But, I choose to believe that he will live a good life, find happiness, and prosper. I anticipate emotionally "bleeding" from my unhealed heart quite often in the future. I don't think that D.I.L.ly has a clue. This is how she is, she can't grow a conscience any more than someone can grow a missing limb.

Inevitable Decline....

I began this post in 1/09. I'm editing in 8/10....

Ok, I'm in the mood to beat a dead horse.

I am 52 years old. When I look in the mirror, I am not surprised. My eyelids drop, I'm forming jowls, I was inordinately pleased when I saw a picture of myself in profile and realized I didn't have a wattle. I assumed I did! My hair sparkles, my waist is thickening, I'm twenty pounds heavier than I used to be.

My knees hurt, they actually crunch when I go up the steps, the sound itself is enough to make me sit down. I have cramps all the time. I'm starting to understand the allure of "unnecessary hysterectomy". I haven't run all winter. I used to run in the snow. I remember parking at the grocery store and running around the residential streets because the roads were clearer. Now, it's difficult to get off my chair, go out to the garage, get in my car with heated seats and drive to the gym. It takes me a week to recover from a session at the gym. And, they aren't what they used to be when I would run 4 miles, workout with a sadistic trainer for an hour, and run home again. I remember running when I was sick, I thought it was good for me, "If I can run five miles with a fever, imagine how good I'll feel running when I'm better!".

I sleep a lot, 8 or nine hours at night, and a nap in the afternoon most days. I didn't sleep for twenty five years. First there were babies, and then there was Wheeler. Sleep was the enemy, robbing me of productivity. Three hours was a "good nap"! I felt rejuvenated. Now, even on nap days I drag around like the living dead. Losing sleep makes me physically ill, really, I get nauseated. There are days that I HAVE to lie down. It's physically impossible not to sleep.

All the time I wasn't sleeping, I wasn't eating. I didn't have to eat. I'd drink coffee, black coffee, the stronger the better. I could go all day. And, when I did eat, my food choices were horrendous! A couple of pieces of candy for breakfast, ice cream for dinner. I was hungry, but I was B-U-S-Y! Very, very busy. Tall One learned to cook. He subscribed to a recipe-card club, out of self-preservation. He kept our sons alive.

Now, I never miss a meal. 95% of the time I'm making informed nutritious food choices; low fat, fruit and salads, chicken, fish. I drink wine, which I never did before. And, my coffee, in the morning now contains no-fat half and half.

But, in spite of my new "commitment" to food, I sometimes FORGET to eat. Really, it's not self denial, I feel that gnawing, growling stomach churn and think, "oh my, I didn't eat breakfast". "What are you doing that preoccupies your time and thoughts to such an extent?", you may ask. I'm trying to wake up!!

She Lives!

Morning All.....She lives!

I'm feeling ever so much better today. I anticipate a return to productivity. And now that I can think again, I'm wondering....Why does being sick make me feel so guilty. Really, it will take me weeks to recover my equilibrium. This is encouraging, I'm obviously NOT a sociopath, but, it's also very, very troubling. Does anyone like to feel guilty? Well, ok, maybe masochists...but, obviously I'm not one of those, either.

I let people down when I'm sick. I couldn't make a very important board meeting. Well, I would have, but I called to see if they really, really needed me there. I could barely talk that day, and probably sounded really contagious, and they said, "No, we'll be ok, take care." What they probably meant was, "Dear God, shoot yourself, save the rest of us!". I didn't even want to be in the same room with me.

I couldn't take care of my grandsons. Daughter had to work, Dude had to work, Tall One had to work....I had to sit in my chair, with my box of tissues, and be ill. The three of them, Daughter seven months pregnant, had to rearrange their schedules, give up their free time, and accommodate my cold (ok, it was the mother-of-all-colds, but STILL...).

Tall One has been eating the same meal of "macaroni and meat" all week long. He made it for himself on Saturday. It's now Thursday. He sent the last of it home with Dude last evening. Now, it's take-out or soup.

Tall One, Daughter, and even Dude have been very supportive and understanding and caring. I can probably get past my culpability in their inconveniences...but, Nana goes much deeper.

Let the psychoanalysis begin:

When I was a child, Nana gloried in my infirmities. She would ensconce me on the sofa with bed pillows and afghans. I was supplied with fluids, treats and daytime TV. All was forgiven when in the throes of a terrible disease. This wasn't Munchausen by proxy, nothing so dramatic, I just think that Nana really, really likes to be in control and revels in the neediness of others - even as it annoys the crap out of her. (Nana is a dichotomy.) As I got older, I used this propensity for coddling to great advantage. My weaknesses endeared me to my mother. I stayed home from school because I was tired - with Nana's full approval.

As an adult, I gained control over my use of illness as an "excuse". At some point, I realized what I was doing: Using "not feeling well" to get out of responsibility and garner sympathy. I also had a few fairly serious debilitating physical issues; 1) three pregnancies, I was hospitalised three times for uncontrollable vomiting; 2) two or three awful bouts with the flu that scared me by the sheer brutality of sickness. I also began to realize how tedious it sounds to always complain about "not feeling well". Somewhere along the line I began to accept that "good enough" was just that, and that I didn't need an excuse for imperfection.

But, the flip side of this, now, is blame. From Nana: I don't rest enough, I go without a hat, I don't "take care of myself", I "do too much". Once Nana lost control of the "cure", she tried to gain control of the "cause". And it vexes me beyond endurance - especially when I'm not up to par, which is when the nagging begins. My illnesses now, are a direct result of my incapability. So mostly I don't tell her...but I couldn't hide this one. You can hear the annoyance in her voice. The shortness, the irritability on the phone. Some of it could be self-preservation. When I am sick, now, Nana is directly threatened. At 78, illness is more than an inconvenience, it's life threatening. She is dependent on me for her mobility. When I'm down-and-out, she could suffer. But I do take heroic steps to make sure she doesn't. The morning of the board meeting, that I "blew off", I did Nana's grocery shopping. She didn't "make me". I do feel more relaxed when her needs are met. But, somehow that gets turned into HER martyrdom. I don't know how she does it, but I find myself reassuring HER, ad nauseam. And, do you know what? I do feel guilty, stupid, inept. I do feel like I've let her down, put her at risk, compromised her safety and happiness. I do feel like IT'S ALL MY FAULT, I DID IT ON PURPOSE!!

Dr. Freud, where are when I need you?

Status Update

I am in the grip of a terrible disease. Ok, it's only a cold but it's been brutal. I felt so awful yesterday, I couldn't even read. I played games on my computer. I couldn't even think of a "status update" for my Facebook account. My throat was clogged with the thick mucus draining from my head. It hurt to cough, and cough I did; horrible, wracking, phlegm-filled croupish coughing, so intense it made me dizzy and incontinent. It's been building in intensity and increasing it's discomfort for over a week. This morning I woke with a sinus headache, if you've ever had one you know what I mean. It's pressure filled pain. You want to shove your fist up your nose and pull out the problem, not unlike cleaning out the inside of a jack-o-lantern, and then you'd need to go in through your mouth with a grapefruit spoon and scrape out your Eustachian tubes to alleviate the ringing and itching in your ears. I'd like to throw-up, to get rid of the garbage that ran down to my throat and was swallowed overnight. There is no relief for the discomfort. Day time cold medicine is only marginally effective. Actually, all it does is dry out your membranes, and add "burning rawness" to the list of indignities. I'm not sure Ibuprofen knows what to do, where to run. I can't taste, swallowing is out of the question, my eyes itch, my nose is an oozing abrasion, and my attitude needs a major adjustment. I know this is unpleasant, but you need to know.

I'm not sure why.

Logical Rationalizations

I belong to a support group. I joined a bit ago. It's for mothers with estranged children. It's been helpful. It's been interesting. I think we, the mothers, have a lot in common. I've found our situations to be uncannily similar.

But, there's been a thread of correspondence lately that I can't relate with, so I've been largely silent. I think it is a legitimate emotional feed. I just have no experience. Or, perhaps I have the experience and have moved beyond. I'm sensing that the mothers are searching for the logical, rational, seed that has propelled their offspring to cut off all contact. I have come to the conclusion that seed doesn't exist in my scenario - I'm wondering if it exists at all.

The moms are talking with a great deal of bitterness. Accusations of immaturity, selfishness, self-centered entitlement, unthinking, unfeeling, ungrateful offspring abound - which may be the case. But, in my experience, none of these adjectives apply. O.S. is cleaving to his wife, leaving his mother and father behind. D.I.L.ly is ill, with a warped perspective and incongruous expectations. I don't expect O.S. to act any differently. He is defending, in the only course open to him, his family, his life, his love.

This doesn't make our separation any less painful. Tall One put it so succinctly in counseling, and I paraphrase: Participation in our adult children's lives is our reward, it's not our right. I miss O.S. I miss D.I.L.ly as I knew her in the "before time". I wish I knew about their lives in the northern wilderness. I want to ask about O.S.'s job. He always took such pride in his machined parts. His was truly an act of artistic creation. Is the new shop a supportive work environment? Does he feel fulfilled? Does he like living in a rustic environment? How's the fishing? Is he hiking? Is he cold? Is he well? Is D.I.L.ly painting? Is she happy? Is she well? Are they happy together? What does he look forward to when he wakes up in the morning? What does he look forward to in life? Does he look forward? Does he look back? How's the dog?

I get the impression, from some of the mothers in our group, that, in their minds, the proper course of action on their sons part, would have been to leave their needy, conniving, manipulative, angry, abusive, evil spouses and choose their mothers instead. If the sons had, I believe this would have supported the immature, needy, selfish interpretation of their character. I KNOW how unpleasant these woman (the wives) can be. I KNOW how unreasonable, demonic their actions and reactions are. There is no rational explanation. Imagine, if we mothers are so unnerved, what our sons are dealing with - and they LOVE these women. They've made a life with them. They've taken vows and invested resources. One of them has a child. Can you imagine their anguish? Can you imagine the harping, nagging, screaming, negative innuendos, outright lies that these men have endured constantly. I don't believe that our sons believe the accusations, I believe that they are taking the steps they need to, in order to survive. They have acquiesced. They have learned not to argue, cajole, or disagree.

It takes superhuman strength and incredible external resources to stand strong against the onslaught of negativity and vile allegations of our disturbed daughters-in-law. I barely accomplished it. It takes superhuman strength and incredible internal resources not to run home to the relatively sane, safety and acceptance of mom and hearth. And think of the loss. Our sons are adults. They have moved beyond our kisses and bandaids. I would expect the same support from Tall One. I would expect him to stay no matter how sick, sad or unreasonable I could be. I would expect him to support me. I would applaud his dedication. Can I do any less for my son as he deals with the mental illness of the woman he's chosen to be his mate? Wouldn't I want him to do everything that he could to save himself - even if it meant sacrificing me?

I despair that O.S. is cut off, separated and secluded from a calm center and our support. I fear he's isolated from all rational insight. But, I bore and raised him to move on. I've equipped him to the best of my ability to survive and thrive. I trust my Older Son. He owes me nothing. I have his young lifetime of wonderful, positive memories that haven't been compromised by the holocaust of our estrangement.

I can't convey this emotional information directly to the mother's of estranged sons. I'm not sure it even applies. And my heart bleeds for the mother's of estranged daughters, that's something I can only imagine, and then, those grandmother's estranged from their grandchildren - that I can only anticipate with horror and trepidation.