Friday, November 13, 2009
Today I have wanted to do nothing but cry. While out running errands, I've let silent tears slip down my face. At home, alone, I have broken down in sobs. I am just so, so, so sad.
Not long after Jaycee was found, I got an e-mail from a man, who had a message for me ... from God, from you. He said that you were alive and lived far away from me, that you were married. He said you thought of me often, especially on Mother's Day, and that you wanted me to buy myself a plant for Mother's Day, and put my face in it, and think of you when I felt the leaves against my skin. Well, this was all very touching and poetic, and I don't really think he had a special message from God or from you. But at the time I wrote back to him and told him that I knew that if you were out there somewhere, married, indicating that you were living with free will, that you would have contacted me. I knew that it would be impossible for you to be alive with any degree of freedom, and for you not to have contacted me.
But Jaycee has changed all that. Jaycee has changed everything. Now the world and we, the parents of missing children, know that not only can our children be alive, but they can be alive and able to come home, and yet choose not to. The one thing I had never factored into any consideration is that it's entirely possible for you to have formed a bond with the person who kidnapped you and held you captive, and not want to come home because you don't want to send that person to jail. Of course this could be true. How could I not have seen that before? Because you were such a loving child, you are such a loving young woman, of course you could feel that way.
Am I repeating myself? Gosh, these things run circles around me and I can't tell what I've thought, what I've said, or where I've said it. Okay, this isn't that unusual a problem. Your brothers and sisters will tell you that!
As difficult as it is to think about this, about you allowing me to go on without knowing what happened to you, without letting me know that you are okay, Jaycee has blazed this trail for you. She's given the world, given me, a chance to embrace this truth, to take it into our hearts and understand it. So it's easy now ... just follow that trail.
You can write to me, you know. You can write to me without telling me where you are or who you are with. If you did, I would want to trace your e-mail address and run to where you are, throw my arms around you and take you home with me. But if it would mean the difference between hearing from you and not, I would refrain from doing that. If you could talk to me, if you could send me some photos of yourself, and of your children if you have them, then we could talk. Perhaps we could figure out a way for you to come home without compromising your loyalties. I know that as much as you may care about whoever you may be with, you love me also. I sign these letters with the words, "I love you forever." Do you remember where those words come from? The book, "Love You Forever."
Do you remember one of your favorite movies, The Boy Who Could Fly? You remember when you met the star of that movie? If you can tell me where you met him, and what he was doing there, I will know that it is you. Do you remember our family code word?
I long to hold you in my arms. But at the very least, if you are reading my words, talk to me. Please.
I love you forever,