About two years ago (or maybe not that long ago?) I wrote a long post on my meeting in a church with Scott, the son my first husband and I had adopted from Hong Kong at age six, and his wife. I explained how nasty he was and how he had told his wife that he had been forced to pay the bills when he was a child, or some such nonsense like that and that he had handed me a To Do list of w hat I had to abide by in order to see him and his family at all. Included where ludicrous demands such as only meeting him in church or in a restaurant in which we all paid our own bills (as if I'd try to get a dinner off of him) and that I can only call him if I leave a clear message about WHY I want him to call me back. It was beyond ridiculous and his wife wept the whole time, bawling that she is afraid of me because I sent a few letters that were a little negative...yeah, yeah, I shouldn't have sent any letters, but they weren't scary or full of swear words or abusive...blah, blah, blah. Before this meeting I had been constantly in anguish over this son. I missed him so much. He had been such an easy child, so bright, so rewarding, and even kind...until he met his wife and decided that he was not going to be that person anymore and that he was going to assert himself and be the not nice adult he claims he always was. Until he agreed to see me after a five year layoff, I was always holding a piece of him in my heart and any reminder of him would send me into tears. He was so hateful during that meeting that it shocked me and I drove home deciding it was best not to contact him at all. I tore up his list of demands and I haven't spoken to him since. As I drove, I was clearheaded and very sure of myself. Our relationship was meant to be over. I had the closure I'd needed and knew I would not see him again nor did I particularly want to see him...this new person he had turned into. Well, I believe two years have gone by. The weirdest thing happened last week. Aug. 30th sailed by without a thought of Scott and I had a fun week. Just yesterday I realized that Aug. 30, Scott's birthday and once a major trigger for depression, had come and gone and not only had I been absolutely fine; I hadn't even remembered. I don't know if that is cold-hearted or a good thing, but that's what happened. I can write about Scott today and not be upset in any way. I have stopped considering him my son and am so used to saying I have four kids and one grandchildren, excluding him, which I'm sure he is fine with. So in his seventh year of exile I am finally at total peace and completely accept that he is not my child, that he doesn't want to be and that I don't want him to be if that makes him happy and since he has such a mean streak in his heart. I realize I have shed my last tear over Scott. Not only that, but none of my other kids ever talk about him either anymore. I know my ex still sees him, probably very limited and on Scott's controlling terms, but that doesn't bother me either. It used to kill me that he saw his father, but not me. Now it doesn't matter. So the update is really not an update at all. It's just that I am over Scott and have reached a peaceful closure. He is probably shocked that I never tried to contact him since that day we met, but I am certain he isn't sad about it at all, just surprised that I let him go, if he even thinks about me and his siblings. He claimed at our meeting that he didn't and I basically believe him. Anyhow, not sure anyone can say anything, but no need to try to make me feel better because I'm good. Just want to say that I'm surprised that I could get over Scott so completely. I didn't think it was possible, yet here I am. Weirdly, I feel as if I never knew him...and I don't think I did.