It was 30 years ago, Tuesday, September 7th at 2:34 PM. He came into this world via an emergency C-section, 3 days after labor began, and was greeted by the medical team and his mom, as his father had been restricted from the operating room when he returned to the hospital from his 4-hour break to eat lunch and smoke a joint. Later, it was no surprise the mother was caring for her baby alone. They took walks long walks every day. They joined a group for new mothers and their newborns, and later formed a playgroup where friendships were formed, - all of which the father mocked. The mother and son were very close, and as the years went on, the little boy would notice his father was barely home. Some days, the father came home from work early, just to pick up his boat and rush out to meet his friends. His son’s delight would turn to disappointed tears as he cried out to go too, but his father would never take him. The mother bore the scars neglect, and more, so she filed for divorce, which angered the father and he swore she would “be sorry”. He retaliated by taking their son to live with the woman he had been having an affair with, yet that opened his young eyes to the realization of how his father treated others, including him. He was not allowed to know his own phone number, because his father didn’t want his mother calling, and fabricated a reason in court. He was carefully watched by the woman’s young daughters so he couldn’t sneak off and call his mother. His father refused to get addresses for his 10th birthday party because it was his mother’s home, - but she was very resourceful, and managed to distribute invitations to the party. Although the son begged for more time with the mother, the father claimed they had “things to do”, although his son knew he lied. The son would whisper to the mother, “You’re much nicer than dad.” It was simply because the mother loved her son more than herself, and she put his needs before her own, and her ex-husband did not. The father knew he could never compete with the mother as a parent, so he began to tell his son horrible things about his mother. He filed false criminal charges, and showed the son unethical and fabricated court documents. He told the son the mother only cared about her new baby, and not about him. He called his son “gay” because he didn’t have a girlfriend. When he found a girlfriend, and got her pregnant, he said his father’s “gay” remarks were jokes, and then refused to allow his mother to see her grandson, stating he was afraid she would hurt him – an outrageous allegation as the mother had never been accused of any kind of physical punishment, while the father actually admitted to beating his son until he was black and blue. The son was lied to every day for the rest of his life until today, his 30th birthday. I am his mother, but he is no longer my son. He is a stranger who recently conveyed his wish for my death. He is a damaged young man who has been programmed by a monster. He has been transformed from a sweet, loving boy to a cruel man devoted to the one who reinvented him. I am no longer proud of him, as I am ashamed of what he’s become, yet I grieve for the gentle child I once knew. So, happy birthday, my son. And when you blow out the candles, close your eyes, and make your wish. You can wish for my death, or you can wish for the truth.
