Happy Mother’s Day, baby girl! You have been so much on my mind these last few days. Is it just because it is Mother’s Day? I wouldn’t ordinarily think so. I’m not really a big holiday person, barely celebrating this year since most of your siblings are spread far and wide, and all of us who are here are exhausted. Your youngest sister, Johnna, is here, but she and her partner, Kane, work for a theater company and just finished two weeks of complex productions, and everybody is pretty exhausted.
But if there is one thing I have learned, it is that there are things that go on deep inside your mind even when you are not consciously engaged with it. So I’m aware of Mother’s Day, even when I am not thinking about it, and I am aware of what it meant to become a mother. I think of the years I tried to have you, the fertility pills I had to take, the scary pregnancy and induced labor, and most of all I think about the magic of holding you in my arms, of waking you early on your first morning here in the world to see the sunshine streaming in through the hospital window. I remember your little hand in mine. I remember, you are the person who first called me “mama.”
I ran across a video blog recently that is so well done it even inspired me. As I wrote recently on Seeker’s Road, over the course of the last three decades I have had to reach a point of finding peace with never knowing the answers about what happened, never being able to find you. The only glitch in that peace is the thought that you could still be out there, alive, and if so, you could need me, which means I cannot rest. So after settling into this tentative peace, this video blog by Danelle Hallan reminded me, oh yes, probably the strongest lead I know of in your case leads to possible human trafficking. And that brings me back to you, and where you might be, what you might have gone through, to the question of whether I should perhaps be wishing you, too, a Happy Mother’s Day, hoping and praying that it could be happy.
Michaela, my messages to you and about you have grown thinner in the last few years. They have come to be mingled into my larger blog at Seeker’s Road. I have said all the words there are to say, but let me say them once more:
Michaela, I love you forever. There is nothing you could possibly have gone through that could change that. I long for the day when I can hold you in my arms again, and I know it will come either in this life or the next one. But if you are out there, if you are suffering, if you need help, if you need me, please contact me. You can comment on this blog, you can email me at MissingMichaela@gmail.com. In the meantime, remember what I always told you. Touch your heart, and you will feel me there. You will feel my love. May it give you strength, and courage.