It’s been awhile since I’ve written, honey. A little while ago, one of my readers reminded me that I needed to get back to this, because what if you are actually reading this blog? And … well, let’s just lay it all out up front here … I’m not a person who is able to present a false front, even when it’s the right thing to do, and with you above all people I want to be honest. So just remember that I love you above all things, and nothing is ever, ever going to change that fact. But I think I have been lax in writing because honestly, I still find it hard to believe that you would be out there reading my words and not responding. It’s not even because I am so convinced that I am such a wonderful person and a wonderful mother that you could not resist running back into my arms (although I do believe that, because I know the strength of the bond between us and find it hard to believe that it could have been broken), but it is that every single moment of this not knowing, every single moment of this missing you, is a moment spent swimming in a sea of grief. And in this sea of grief, it is sometimes difficult to keep myself afloat, much less hold up that heavy burden of hope.
I function, in some areas very well, and in some areas at less than par, but in all honesty, I live in a state of depression that wavers between a mild background state and a heavy, soggy-hearted state. But bear with me here. I have to say the things I have to say, but it will not all be dismal.
Everything has been very, very close lately. I’m sure it is because the anniversary is approaching again, but there have been a confluence of other things happening that have brought various things back, right into my face. So let’s start with the worst. I was watching the pilot of a new television show the other day — “Grimm,” it’s called. I liked the show, liked looking at the pretty actor starring in it, liked some of the music, maybe the concept or maybe not, but we shall see. But it was about people who transformed into the Big Bad Wolf and kidnapped and murdered girls/young women. In the beginning there was a young woman grabbed while she was jogging. She then went off screen, but you could hear her screaming. And it just stabbed right into my heart, Michaela. I have never known what happened to you. It can’t help but be that possibilities scutter across my consciousness from time to time. I try not to linger on them … but I can tell you that I didn’t find Jaycee’s book as horrific as some may have. The things she described are actually far more pleasant than some of the things that have traveled down that dark path in my mind. People watch horror movies, read news stories, and to them they are just stories, but not inoften when I hear or see those things, my thoughts wander to you, my little girl, and to just what you might have endured through the years.
If you are reading this blog, Michaela, then one thing would be true, and that is that however terrible the things you endured may have been, the very worst of the worst of those things did not happen to you. Do you know how very much I would like to know that? Do you know how much of a blessing it would be if you could just forever close the gate that allows those thoughts to travel through my mind in this way? I guess the bottom line is this … I know you loved me. At the time you were kidnapped, I knew that in addition to the fear and grief you would be experiencing yourself, I knew that you would be worried about me as well, that you would be concerned about the fear and grief I would be feeling as well. Michaela, if you are out there, even if you don’t want to come home for whatever reason, if you could please, please, please just set this one small part of my mind at ease, could you do it, please? You can leave quite an anonymous comment on this blog if you want. You could e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org. I will post my personal phone number in the side column of this blog in a minute. Just give me some information that nobody else could know, so that I know that it’s you. Do you remember our family code word? That would work. Is there any memory of our life together that you could share that nobody else would know? Please, Michaela, I’m begging you, on my knees, with my heart full of tears. Please.
Okay. Onward and upward here. I promised that this whole blog wouldn’t be dismal. Pretty soon it will be 2012. And for various reasons I believe that 2012 could well be the year that you will be found. In fact I’ve written a detailed description of why on my other blog, which you can find here:
I just can’t help feeling that Something Big is coming next year. Completely apart from the blog post above, I have felt it reaching into my heart, preparing the ground, planting the seeds. I don’t know what is exactly, or what form it will take, but I do believe that something is coming. And I do believe that it involves you, Michaela. Your solar return and my solar return are veritable twin images, and in some way our lives, our spirits, will be in sync in 2012. The one thing I can say for certain is that if you are not found, then something else will happen that will unlock the secrets of our place in each other’s lives — there are so many questions, so many things just vaguely glimpsed and not grasped. It’s like your poem. It means something, but what? One of the quotes that has lit my path is by Rilke:
Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms, and like books written in a foreign language. Do not look now for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the questions. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answers, some distant day.
That distant day has come. It is here. It is time to start living the answers. As you held my hand, Michaela, when you took your first steps (and how clearly I can see and feel that, deep in my heart), please just take my hand now, and together we will take those first steps into the light of the truth, and the warmth of the love that binds our hearts together, now and forever, for all the past and for all the future.
I love you forever, Michaela.