His little arms reached up to hug me, and as I reached down to kiss his puckered lips I had no idea that it would be the last time I saw my grandson, “E.”
If I had known, would I have hugged him longer? Would I have breathed in his sweet baby smell and looked at every last detail of his face to commit it to memory?
When my daughter lost her rights to my grandson I dropped my custody case because I believed his foster mother and I were friends.
I knew that she planned to adopt him, and I believed her promise that I would always be his “Mimi.”
Then two months later I asked to see him, and she refused.
Understandably I became upset and wanted to know why?
Her response was to “block” me three days later. She blocked me on social media and removed my access to a page that she had used to share his photos with his biological family.
She then stopped answering my texts and refused to allow me to send him a gift for his birthday.
There are online sites about losing a child to adoption, and Grandparent Alienation. I suppose I fit in one of those groups, and maybe both.
All I know is that I think about him all the time, and I wonder if he misses his two older brothers who I am raising and me.
Sadness is my constant companion.
Unexpectedly, a few weeks I caught myself smiling. I was decorating the Christmas tree and making ornaments with one of his brothers.
Soon after a friend posted a video of her grandson who is the same age as E. He was singing in his sweet little voice and all I could think of was E’s voice when he told me that he loved me with all of his heart.
It breaks my heart. My sweet baby boy.
I miss him so much.
I never even got to say goodbye.