...and they wonder why I cry....

And they wonder why I cried, when I sent my boys, Quentin and Kendall, back to Ohio on a jet plane last year. I tried. I really tried to not cry.

There was an understanding that I would see them again next year, next summer, but I know deep down that I may not see them again for a while. I knew there would be conflicts with their father. There always is. I knew there would be levels of frustration, sadness and helplessness for me. Some days are just overwhelming and just heartbreaking. That time has come. Those feelings have surfaced. The regrets flow deep. I have diligently and patiently waited for the time to come so I could purchase their plane tickets and have them again, for a few short weeks in the summer. And it all crashed down. I feel myself crashing with it. I tried to get a hold of their father, my ex-husband, and I was avoided. I tried getting a hold of the boys. I was avoided. When I finally posted something on Facebook, was when I got a response from one of my boys.

Both Quentin and Kendall are into playing football. Proudly I say that. They are good players. They need to condition for playing as well as they do. I understand that, but not communicating to me just upsets me. The fear my boys seem to have with their father and his wife, Tracy is frustrating. So I sit here. Heartbroken.

It hurts all the time. It feels like two huge parts of me have been ripped from my soul, and I am no longer complete. The consequences of making my decision to allow the boys to be with their father, as I took care of my first three children, that had no father, is now slamming me, and the regret for doing so is ever present. Daily.

I miss my boys, and wonder; do they truly know the heartache, the frustration, hurt, sadness and tears I have shed over not having them close? Do they know how many nights I look up to the stars and wonder if they are looking at the same star I am, and at that exact moment?

So as I sit here contemplating about the "special something" that I am to get from this experience. I have come to this.
Do not get attached to the "outcome" you wish to happen. When you do, and it does not "happen" the way you "imagined"; it can be heart breaking, soul wrenching, and devastating.
I love my children. I have experienced that children are my EVERYTHING, and when some are missing, it is sad, and dull, and makes life not feel like living. At least that is the way it is for me.

So they wonder why I cried when I sent my boys back to Ohio? Because I knew the moment would come that they would not be able to make their summer visit. That time has come.