I'm feeling quite blue today. Some of you who have read for a long time may recall me writing about my son and our estrangement. We have not seen or talked to him in 2 1/2 years now. I don't even bother to blog about it anymore. It's what life dealt us and we live with it as best we can. The bits and pieces of info we get, every so often, tell a story of drugs, no job (or short lived jobs of a few weeks here and there), living with whoever will give him a couch/bed to sleep on- someone new every 2-3 months (if that long).
And yet again, someone close to us and we love has chosen not to tell us they had contact with him. I really don't get it. It's not like we actually do anything with the info - other than maybe sleep a little easier that night knowing he's still alive. Of course there isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't cross our minds. I say a prayer for him when I go to bed at night. What is so hard/wrong with saying "hey, just wanted you to know I heard from him". It's not like we then ask for his phone number or anything.
This time especially hurts, considering it's my DD who has heard from him and didn't tell us. You'd think when you haven't heard from your brother in over 2 years, you'd tell your parents, who you know wonder and worry about him. I'm just at a loss to understand any of this.
On the good side, I guess, is now we at least know he is doing ok. He's been at the same job for 6 months and it appears he got rid of the eyebrow piercing (seen in one of his facebook photos). He's apparently now living with another girl/woman (another one with a kid) - but we all know what that is about - that's one of the ways he finds his places to sleep for a few months (there have been many of these relationships).
I'm tired of people keeping us in the dark. Apparently we're just supposed to forget we ever had a son we gave birth to and raised.