I have loved you always...a note to my son

Do you remember coming into my life? Probably not. You were almost two. In the frantic buzz of the International Terminal at O'hare, with people crying, and cameras flashing you just stood there and took it all in. I knelt down in front of you and extended my arms. You walked towards me and I wrapped my arms around you and said, "Welcome Home." You were the only Korean baby who wasn't crying. I thought, "wow...am I lucky". And I remember thinking "I will always love you. You will never be alone."

Do you remember your nightmares? I doubt it. Every night for a year, after you'd been asleep for a few hours, you would start screaming. Your Dad and I would rush to your room and find you backed into the corner of your trundle bed. Your eyes were open - but not seeing. You'd cry out "AMA" over and over again. Your arms extended towards some invisible person or thing. We could not touch you because it made you scream louder. Tears would pour from your dark brown eyes. Sometimes you trembled. Sometimes you just screamed and sobbed. I would stay with you until it was over. I did not want you to be alone.

Do you recall the day I fell apart in the bathroom? You'd only been with us a few weeks..The parent thing was harder than I'd imagined. You'd wet your pants - again. And I fell apart. I sat on the floor in front of the toilet and sobbed. You watched me and then reached out your tiny hand and patted my head. This made me cry harder. It made you try harder. You put your arms around my neck and patted me over and over until I stopped crying. At some level you "got it". You didn't want me to feel alone and scared.

Do your remember your first day of Kindergarten? You might. You were scared but proud. Unsure about the bus ride. I made you a deal. I would follow the bus in my car and you could look out the window at any time and see me there. And not be scared. And I did it. Like a stalker, I followed the winding trail of the big yellow bus up and down our streets. Periodically your beautiful little face would appear in the rear window. We would wave. You would smile. I blew kisses. When the bus arrived at school I parked the car and stood discreetly behind a tree waiting to see you get off. Needing to be sure that someone would greet you and help you find your way.I didn't want you to feel alone or scared.

Do you remember kindergarten? I'm sure you remember some of it. The way Mrs. Jackson saw "potential" in you...when others didn't. The way she tried to teach you how to be a friend and how to play nicely. She tried, you failed. Except that time when you and Eric seemed to get along well. He did anything you told him to. He got in trouble. I remember that night when his Dad called me and said, "I don't want Eric playing with your son. he is a bad influence." I was speechless. You kids were five years old. I secretly prayed that something awful would happen to Eric's Dad. It didn't. Instead, he won 35 milion dollars in the lottery. There is no justice.

Do you remember your friends when you were little? Of course not, you didn't have any. No one wanted to play with you. No birthday party invitations, no sleepovers, no friends over after school. You didn't seem to notice...or if you did, you didn't let on. I was your friend. We did everything together. I filled in the blanks. I remember being with you at the playground watching you interact with another child. He wasn't from here. He didn't know you. You were bossy and tried to control the play. He walked away. "Who was that?" I asked you. You grinned and proudly said, "That's my friend!". "What's his name?" "I don't know," you replied. You had no idea what a friend was. But I loved you and I was your friend.

Do you remember the first time you took something that was not yours? You were in day care. You may recall this because it was traumatic. I asked you "where did you get these?" You said you found them. I continued to question you. Eventually you admitted that you took them. So I drove you to the police station and we parked out front. I told you the toys in your pocket had to be returned and that you had to tell the police. You cried. We didn't go in...and I thought you got the message loud and clear. You had to know there were limits to what I would tolerate from you. Lying and stealing were not acceptable, I loved you but I was also responsible for turning you into a decent human being. Or die trying.

Do you remember the principals at your schools? I'm sure they remember you. How many afternoons did we sit with guidance counselors, principals, special ed teachers and school psychologists trying to figure out how to re-direct your behavior? Bet you don't want to remember this. "Your son threw a waste basket across the room." "He won't sit at his desk", "He bothers the other children." And as you got older the infractions grew exponentially. Special ed, private psychologists, psychiatrists, evaluations, medications...on and on for years and years. There was only one thing on which they all agreed. You were sweet, polite and kind. I already knew that.I remember a day when the principal of your last elementary school called me in utter frustration over some infraction. I listened to her rail on and on about how impossible you were. When she was done I simply replied, "Well, I can only think of one thing that we haven't tried." "What's that?" she asked, "I will make arrangements to have him put to sleep." I understood that you were difficult. I was doing everything in my power to help you. I loved you and I was going to stay in your corner as long as I had to.

I told you about the divorce while we sat in my car one afternoon. I don't think this is something you want to remember. Neither do I. I watched you fold into yourself. You said nothing. Then you cried. And I assured you that no matter what was happening between Dad and me, you were loved and we would make your life as nice as possible.Nothing would be that different. We would both love you. But we would love you separately. Who was I kidding? You changed the subject and I vowed to love you doubly as much to fill in the gaps. I don't think that worked very well.

Remember the first time you met John? I know you do. You and he bonded instantly. He seemed to know how to reach you. He was my "friend" but, more than that, he was your best friend. It was, I think, the first time I'd ever seen you so animated, so happy. With him you seemed better, more focused. And when I made the decision to end my relationship with him, I never considered what that would do to you. How crushed you would be. "Why did John leave me?" you asked. And I wondered how you explain to an eight year old boy that John and I left each other...and no one meant to leave you. You were mad. You were hurt. And for years you refused to speak his name. An unintentional abandonment. A loss of love in your life of loss. I am so so sorry I let that happen.

When I introduced you to Bob you were not happy. You certainly remember this. He had a son your age...a child you didn't like. And worst of all, he was taking a part of me away from you. You did not want this on any level. So you fought it. I think sparks flew between the two of you from the first day. It grew worse when I told you he and I were getting married. He was the "other man" in our relationship. It was an act of war. I tried to balance my love for him and my all encompassing love for you. But the sides were drawn. The fight was on. It didn't matter that i loved you...it only mattered to you that I loved him too. I did not mean to betray you.

In the years since then I have watched as you dismantled every opportunity that was given to you and hurt everyone who loved you. Yet, despite the drugs, the arrests, the jail time, lawyers and shrinks you were still my sweet, helpful loving boy. A boy who seemed to only feel comfort in chaos.

You are no longer a boy. Technically you are a man. And still your childhood life pattern continues. Is this what happens to adopted children? You were broken when you came. Nothing I could do could fix you. Love really isn't enough. I wish only that you could go back to being the beautiful baby boy that your Korean mother held and loved for eighteen months. I wish she could have found a way to keep you and keep you whole. I am sure she imagines you living in America and having a wonderful American life. I know that is what she wanted for you. It's what we all wanted for you.

I don't think this is ever going to happen.

But, oh, I cannot tell you how much I love you. How much I hurt for you. And for me. But I can tell you that I will never give up on you. I never stop loving you. I will never stop hoping that you find your way.