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It's been 11 years since I have heard from one of my sons.
Today I heard from him.
For years I lived not knowing where my boys were. 3 kids, missing - losing sleep, worried about them, nightmares on a regular basis. I spent days looking for them in the news, worried I would find the worst. Hoping I would find out where they were.
When my X died in 2005 my youngest called me. First contact.
Now in 2010 I talk to two of my sons, oldest is stationed at Ft. Hood. Youngest was in the military, had issues and got out, but is going back later this month. My middle son - he just dropped off the face of the earth and would not even talk to me and rarely talks to his brothers.
This morning, about 3am, he wrote me back.
11 years I worried, cried over him. Missed him so much. He was my 'special' little boy. My first Christmas without him I woke up after a nightmare, saw him dead in a frozen casket. I was living in Ridgcrest, CA, at the time. I drove up to Kennedy Meadows, some 6000 feet up the Sierra Nevada mountains. All alone and crying because I missed him.
I used to drive around Jack's Ranch Road out there, night after night, missing him and his brothers.
Years went by, then finally I found my boys. Except for him. He was just not ready.
Now he has replied to an email I sent him.
I don't know how to explain to you what it means to you to lose a child - and then find them. I sit here, waiting to hear back from him. I might not.
But for a moment today, I heard from my little boy.
And I wish I could just hold him again, snuggle him and his little stuffed bear, and let him know I am here for him.
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