Oh Echo. Oh, I have read the letter twice. During the first reading, I couldn't take it in and my head was spinning as I was starting to understand what you were doing here. During the second reading, my stomach was hurting. I was scared.
I was living my own situation through yours.
What gentleness, regret, honesty and love in every single word. That letter is as loving as your mother's touch.
No blame, no shoulds, no controlling, no managing, no fixing.
A beautiful and so painful display of valuing yourself and your life, and of so much love for your precious son.
I can only imagine what it cost you to write that letter. And then to go over it again and again. And then to send it.
Oh Echo. I know this is not why you wrote the letter, but I can only pray so hard right now that difficult child hears you and he thinks hard and he chooses a new life. I can only hope that this can help him reach his bottom.
What horrible grief and pain we must endure to get to the point that you have gotten to yesterday, when you sent this letter.
I am angry at this evil horrible disease, and what it puts us all through---our difficult children and us. I shake my fist at it.
How are you today? Warm hugs and prayers and hope and deep caring from me to you right now. Be so very kind to yourself right now, Echo.
