Chapter 4: A New Family Reunion

That was how I helped a friend. I had been calling home to talk to Mom, DJ, and Becky every week now, and we were getting things kind of settled. I was really looking forward to the coming holidays. Mom flew in to town the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and Sybil picked her up since I was still in school. She took Mom to my apartment, helped her get set up in the spare room, and said I would be home in a while. They sat at the kitchen table and discussed me and my life here in Houston. Sybil didn't want to pry, but did ask Mom about the different last names. Mom told her it was regarding some horrible family misunderstandings a long time ago, and that she was now using her old married name. She explained that her first husband died and things got very confusing after that. Ron had a different name and that was as far as she would say. She did say that it was a very tough time for her and me, and that it was best left forgotten. Sybil said she understood. She had a time in her life that she hoped that she could forget someday too, so it ended that topic. She did ask about Ron's siblings; Mom told her about DJ and Becky, that their families coming down to see Ron at Christmas, and that they hoped to find a place close by for them to stay. Sybil assured her that would not be a problem.

When I got home Tuesday night, I saw my mother for the first time in over five years. She looked much older than her real years. She was just 53, but she looked at least 65. There was all this grey hair and wrinkles on her face and hands. She was nicely dressed, but still looked gaunt. I guess life after I left was really hard on her. I could feel a little sorry for her, but not a lot. She did say that she was eating better and had gained about ten pounds since I called her in August. My God, what she must have looked like a couple of years ago. DJ had said that I might not recognize her now since she had lost so much weight and looked much older, but this? My God, what she must have gone through?

I hugged her, but not too hard as I somehow felt that I would break her in half if I did. I had tears in my eyes when I finally let her go, and noticed that my shirt, as well as Mom's face, was wet. Still crying, she turned and ran to her room. It wasn't exactly the homecoming I expected. I dropped my school work off, made coffee, and started on my homework. I wanted to finish it so I could have the rest of the week with just her and me. I knew that I was going to have a long conversation with her about her eating habits and that she needed some exercise to build her muscle tone back up.

I tried to do my homework, but I couldn't; I just sat there and cried. How could I have created the mess I did by leaving? Why didn't I try to talk to her, maybe try to get her into therapy? Why didn't I contact DJ or Becky? Why did I just leave and runaway from my troubles? Oh, God, did I really fuck things up? I guess I should have tried to get back in touch with my family.

I sat there for what seemed like hours, but it was probably only about an hour later, when I felt some arms come down around my neck and a soft head of hair lean against my own head. Then the words spoken in my ears whispered, "I love you, Jason, and I'm so very sorry for what I did to you. I don't blame you for leaving, but I really was not in my right mind. I know that is not a good excuse, but it's the truth. When I came home that night and I saw that you were gone, I just fell to pieces and tried to kill myself. I had called both Becky and DJ and told them that I thought that you had been kidnapped. I couldn't tell them that I was the reason you left. I couldn't even admit it to myself. I tried to kill myself and took a bunch of tablets, but they were vitamins, not the sleeping pills I thought they were.

"I was throwing up and dehydrated by the time DJ's friend got to the house. He called an ambulance and they hospitalized me. DJ finally put his foot down three years ago. His demeanor was so much like his father's then that I accepted the fact that I had to do something. I was wasting away and knew it was entirely my fault. After two years of therapy, I finally told your brother and sister what I did to drive you away. They were so mad that they wouldn't talk to me for weeks. We had given up on ever finding you by then, and they took pity on me. I'm getting better every day, Jase, but it will take a lot of time and love for me to get back to where I was before all this happened. Please forgive me and know that I love you. I'll go back home if you want me to, but I just had to see you to make sure that you were still alive. Your voice has changed so much, and although you do resemble your father a lot, you're not him, and I know that now."

"Oh, Mom, I'm so sorry I did this to you. You can stay as long as you like. I love you too." I said, crying.