We made initial contact by E-mail, through a 3rd party. At first I was skeptical of who it was I was talking with. We e-mailed personal questions&answers back and forth
until the both of us were satisfied that it was indeed mom and son talking.
That's when insecurity stepped in!
What if he doesn't really want to reunite, but instead just wants the chance to tell me how much he hates me?
What if he tells me that he never wants to see me again?
Will he be embarrassed of the mom he barely remembers, once we go to video cam?
What if he doesn't believe anything I say to him?
Those were just a few of the questions nagging at me, when we first began our reunification process.
In spite of my worries, our conversations went well.
"Skype!" He suggested.
"HUH?"
He patiently explained how to download the Skype program.
After ten years of searching, there my older son was, sitting right before my eyes!
I didn't have a cam set up at first, so he could not see the tears as I traced my fingers across the computer screen.
For about a week we met up on Skype just about every night.
We asked each other questions. I heard "Do you remember?" about a million times.
We played songs for each other. We sent funny video links back and forth. I 'introduced' him to his little brother. We took many pictures of each other on Skype...
All of these activities helped fill in gaps, when we were lost at what to say next.
Then as easily as he reappeared in my life, he was gone!
Did I say something wrong? I was honest with his questions.
(Even the uncomfortable ones) Should I have lied to him instead?
Maybe he really did hate me, and just wanted to ......
The list of 'what if's' goes on and on. All of these questions were filled
with self doubt.
I am sure that I was miserable to be around at this point.
I sent him an Email, but there was no answer. Perhaps I am being too pushy, and he feels like I'm bugging him too much?
That's it! If he don't want to talk anymore, I get it...
About 2 weeks later, he contacted me. I was afraid of being rejected again, so I tried to remain aloof. That didn't work well for me and instead, my heart bubbled over with joy.
It turns out that I had neither said nor done anything wrong.
The lack of contact was simply because he's a teen boy, with things to do. Go figure!
About that unanswered E-mail?
"I HATE to write, mom! I don't write Email or letters. I did read your letter though."
I went through this 'insecure phase' the first few months of initial contact. Every time I didn't hear from him, I blamed myself, and constantly questioned what it was that I had done wrong.
Yet each time it was the same answer....
A young adult with things to do!
Whew!
It took quite a few months, and a bit of pressure from my sis for me to take the next BIG step.
It's not that I didn't want to see my own son...
After all, I'd been searching for him and his brother for over 10 years.
But I was insecure and frightened to death.
Afraid of what?
Everything! I was afraid of saying the wrong thing. I was afraid of doing the wrong thing. You name it, and I was just downright scared of messing it up!
FINALLY I asked. "Would it be o.k. if I came down, and we went out for a pizza or something?" Instead of a slice of pizza and not enough time, the people with whom he lived invited me to their home for the weekend. How kind of them!
It was a long enough drive to where he lives. Long enough for me to worry myself ill!
What if they were luring me there, only to gang up and beat the crap out of me?
What if it were a hoax, and I made the drive, only to find that it was a wrong address?
Do you see an unhealthy pattern developing?
For every step forward with our reunification, I worried myself 3 steps back.
BAD MAMMABEAR!!!
Again all of this worry was unnecessary.
After 10 + years of searching, I FINALLY MET MY SON!
I can never repay these 'strangers' who opened up their home as a 'neutral-comfort zone,' so that my son and I could reunite.
Words can't possibly describe that weekend. We had a great time!
(Although I am suspicious that he was trying to do me in, with that 12 mile hike in the wee AM hours!)
The weekend came to an end waaayyy too soon. It was impossible to even begin to make up for the 10 years gone by.
I grew bold and asked him if he wanted to come visit for a week, and was more than elated when he agreed.
Within the week he met his little brother, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and other relatives. There were a few informal dinner parties. The two of us stayed up late, trying to catch up with lost time.
Many many times he compared himself and his mannerisms to mine. He saw! What an awesome compliment!
Alas, it was time to take him back home. I have to admit that It wasn't easy to do that!
There was still so much left unsaid.
And yet he said it all...
With a hug he asked, "When are you coming back, mom?"
Showing posts with label reunification process. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reunification process. Show all posts
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Saturday, May 15, 2010
~LOCATED~ Now What ???
The search for a missing loved one affects many people.
Parents, siblings, grandparents, children, aunts, uncles, and friends, all find their lives forever changed.
If your life has been touched by the search for a missing loved one, and you are now dealing with reunification issues...
If you find yourself asking 'NOW WHAT?'
Please take a few moments to read through this. Your comments, ideas, questions, and suggestions are more than welcome.
mammabear
Often when a loved one is missing families talk about ‘just needing to know they are alive'. When the missing person is discovered to be alive much joy and relief is brought to anxious family members and friends. Yet, many discover that a number of issues surface and create friction within relationships – particularly those between the missing person and their family members and friendsYou are NOT alone!
These 2 links offer confirmation that emotions can be quite confusing, once a loved one has been located...
Someone is Missing:The Reunion
The Missing Person Has Been Located...What Now? (PDF format)
A child who has been missing and is about to be or has been reunited with his or her parent(s).
Vanished Children's Alliance offers some helpful tips for the initial contact.
Initial Reunification Tips for Parents (PDF Format)
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Happy Birthday Sigourney Chisholm Update: Sigourney Located
Joe Chisholm has been told that the daughter he has not seen since May 13, 1993, wants to contact him. Counsellors
with the Canadian Centre for Child Protection told Chisholm that his
daughter, Sigourney Teresa Chisholm, who grew up in Victoria under the
assumed identity of Thea Whelan, is doing OK, but is still in shock... Father awaits word from Thea
Happy birthday to you,
happy birthday to you,
happy birthday dear Sigourney.
Happy birthday to you.
Written by: Joe Chisholm (Dad)Today is Sigi's Birthday
September 20th, Sigourney is 18 years of age today – 6.574 days old. Sigourney may not know her real name, her real birthday or the truth about her life, but it’s a fact – today is her birthday. I can remember that day so vividly - September 20, 1991. What a year: The USA unleashes unreasonable force against a former brother-in-arms Saddam Hussein and the people of Iraq. Theodor Seuss Geisel – Dr. Seuss dies. “Dances with Wolves” is the Picture of the Year and The Pittsburgh Penguins defeat the North Stars to win the Stanley Cup.
And Sigourney Teresa Chisholm was born at home with her elated parents, mother – Patricia O’Byrne and yours truly, proud dad, Joe Chisholm in the company of Linda Moscovitch our mid-wife and her assistant (sorry, can’t remember her name) and our dear friend Teresa Whelan – who Sigourney was named after. Oh, and 51 Division of Metro Toronto Police stopped by for a quick peek. Seems we forgot to inform the other tenants of 30 Elm Avenue that Apartment 201 would be giving birth that day and Patricia’s screaming prompted a call to Toronto’s finest.
Patricia and I had our difficulties as a couple leading up to Sigourney’s birth but all our differences where on hold as we were both so hopeful and excited about the impending birth of our child. That day was a day of great hope and joy. Jesse, my son was 2 ½ years old at the time. I didn’t have even one Email to check that day – not many of us knew what that was, but you could send a letter anywhere in Canada for less than $0.30.
There was a transit strike in Toronto at the time and I was at a seminar downtown earlier that afternoon when Patricia’s water broke. My pager went off (yes - we had pagers back then) and I wondered who had that annoying thing turned on and why don't they turn it off? Then I realized it was me and my heart pounded so much it almost leapt from my chest. I knew Sigourney was coming. Patricia was at home and the midwife and Teresa would be there soon. I ran out of the King Edward Hotel and into a cab and blurted out my address. We were in bumper to bumper traffic and the cabbie was quite talkative - about what I have no idea because all I could think about is how I wanted to be home. Having seen a light in front of us turn green, yellow, red three times before we got to the intersection, I tossed the cabbie some money and said, “Don’t worry about it – I will run home,” and in my suit with my brief case, I started striding northbound between lines of nearly parked cars. I got home, huffing and puffing in my sweaty suit and Patricia was quite calm. I got changed, got ready and we timed contractions while waiting for the others to arrive.
Several hours later we celebrated Sigourney’s birth day.
For 5966 of those days, Sigourney has been missing, Patricia has been wanted by the law and I have been searching. Sigourney and I were only in each other’s lives (technically) for just over 600 of the first days of her life. But every day for 6574 days I have woken up each morning a father of two – my beloved Jesse whom I took a generous number of opportunities to say, “Guess What! I love being your dad!” + Sigourney who I have spent at least some of every one of over 5,900 days, searching and working towards a resolution of this conflict. I never feel that I have done enough.
Many of those days have been seemingly overwhelming as the ravages of sadness, sleep disorder, anger or anguish highjack my day, say to me, “turn off the phone, cancel your appointments – today you are my bitch.” Even looking at those words I just typed – ravage, anguish – it seems so melodramatic but if you have witnessed any mother or father in my shoes, or you are one yourself, you know those words don’t even do the levels of despair literary justice. Like living in a hurricane belt, you don’t look forward to it – nor do you resist it, you just bear down and remember you lived through the last one and the one before that.
And when others say to me, “You are so courageous,” I appreciate the kindness of what they say, but it doesn’t seem to be the right word either. I just do what any functionally bonded parent would do. It’s not bravery and it’s not noble and it’s not even integrity, it’s an unyielding compulsion to fulfill a promise you made to your child to prepare and protect them in life. A friend who knew Patricia and knows me said, “Oh my God, this has been your life’s work.” That’s how it turned out, in a way. It’s been like having the duty of a second job (a job you pay to work at) in very many ways. I can count the number of holidays I have found time for on one hand and the holidays that haven’t been Sigourney seeking or devoted to quality time with Jesse on one finger.
Still, I find time for things that I love that don’t take me too far from the phone. I love sports and I love music. Especially, seeing IndieCan through its infancy and helping young, deserving artists – this has been quite healing. It’s like I am helping other people’s children – the songs, in the absence of one of my own children. I am reminded often by well meaning friends that no child wants the pressure of being told “I sacrificed my whole life for you!” no matter what the circumstances. So, when I am not searching, I am making the best of life – some days much better than others.
At the time of writing we are only 1 ½ hours into Sigourney’s birthday and I don’t feel too bad - considering. This is a day of great symbolism for me as Sigourney transitions from child to young adult. I am faced with accepting defeat in my declaration to prepare and protect Sigourney throughout her childhood, come what may. The war Patricia declared on my fatherhood ends in success for her and failure for me. The day was never saved by the forces of good, despite noble efforts. Even in the eleventh hour, no one came to my families rescue. Patricia never saw fit to do what most would agree to be the right thing. As the Toronto International Film Festival leaves town today, there will be no Hollywood ending for the Sigourney story.
You might disagree with my conclusions as you read but check the score-board (Men love sports analogies). What is more pathetic than someone who can’t take a loss? We all know some sorry-ass person like this. Life is full of gambles; some of them just don’t go the way you wish.
Nothing really changes for me today – I am still looking and my arms will always be open wide to invite Sigourney into the life of her patriarchal family that she has been deprived of to date. The slight adjustment in my approach is that I am no longer appealing to her mother, Patricia. Sigourney is an adult and she can make her own choices.
Not that I wouldn’t talk to Patricia right now. Without knowing the present circumstances, it is likely that transitioning Sigourney back to the reality of her life would still be better with Patricia on board. But now it’s not necessary to appeal to Patricia. That’s the only small difference in my on-going search.
Now, about the quote at the top: Pardon the patriarchy of the wording. It was a century ago and I expect Longfellow would be more inclusive in his words today. This was a poet and an educator. A sensitive man who knows much suffering in his life, Longfellow came to the aid of his beloved wife who had accidentally set herself in flames. She would die a few days later from the burns and he would wear a beard the rest of his life to cover the burns he suffered in the rescue attempt.
Again, “If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.” Many years before, Confuses said, “To understand completely is to forgive completely.” I have been collecting quotes for a writing project lately and it has been enlightening. Longfellow, especially, because of his suffering in life, his words speak to me.
I have more actual dreams of meeting Patricia than I do of meeting Sigourney. Maybe it’s because I know what Patricia looks like. Maybe the theme of the dream will answer why. Always I am walking with her and I am struggling how to ask the question that will answer “Why did you do it?” And it’s not the excuse I am looking for and not the twisted fantasy of how she has God on her side or how, like the movie, “Minority Report” she imagines that she was saving our daughter from some future evil that I would inflict upon her. I want the truth, the root-cause. I want the damage report so that I can understand and so I can forgive. I loved Patricia. I don’t want to see her as a narcissistic sociopath. She is the woman I procreated with and the blood of my daughter.
Patricia’s brothers are still hostile to this day when my name comes up. Many other family members of Patricia’s are sympathetic to my families cause, but hands-off. So many – and I know some of you twisted fucks are reading this – know in their hearts that that they have conspired with Patricia and some of them feel ambivalent at very least. Patricia did not act alone. She was encouraged. She was enabled. Many more said nothing when speaking up would have been the right thing to do. I want to understand them all and the shit in their life that can allow them to be party to something so grotesque. When I try to think of the depth of damage it takes for each person who has taken her side - how can they be predisposed to the twisted stories that she tells without doubt or sober second thought? I cannot grasp it, but I want to and I have the small comfort from the wisdom of the ages that one day the facts will be known, and from them, healing can begin.
But for now, thanks for reading and for today, if we could all devote some well-wishes to Sigourney on her 18th birthday, I would be grateful.
A personal note: I didn't have the heart to delete this birthday wish. Should family find this and want it removed, PLEASE contact me via the comment section or email, which is listed below.
Updated March 20, 2018
happy birthday to you,
happy birthday dear Sigourney.
Happy birthday to you.
"If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in
each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.”
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
September 20th, Sigourney is 18 years of age today – 6.574 days old. Sigourney may not know her real name, her real birthday or the truth about her life, but it’s a fact – today is her birthday. I can remember that day so vividly - September 20, 1991. What a year: The USA unleashes unreasonable force against a former brother-in-arms Saddam Hussein and the people of Iraq. Theodor Seuss Geisel – Dr. Seuss dies. “Dances with Wolves” is the Picture of the Year and The Pittsburgh Penguins defeat the North Stars to win the Stanley Cup.
And Sigourney Teresa Chisholm was born at home with her elated parents, mother – Patricia O’Byrne and yours truly, proud dad, Joe Chisholm in the company of Linda Moscovitch our mid-wife and her assistant (sorry, can’t remember her name) and our dear friend Teresa Whelan – who Sigourney was named after. Oh, and 51 Division of Metro Toronto Police stopped by for a quick peek. Seems we forgot to inform the other tenants of 30 Elm Avenue that Apartment 201 would be giving birth that day and Patricia’s screaming prompted a call to Toronto’s finest.
Patricia and I had our difficulties as a couple leading up to Sigourney’s birth but all our differences where on hold as we were both so hopeful and excited about the impending birth of our child. That day was a day of great hope and joy. Jesse, my son was 2 ½ years old at the time. I didn’t have even one Email to check that day – not many of us knew what that was, but you could send a letter anywhere in Canada for less than $0.30.
There was a transit strike in Toronto at the time and I was at a seminar downtown earlier that afternoon when Patricia’s water broke. My pager went off (yes - we had pagers back then) and I wondered who had that annoying thing turned on and why don't they turn it off? Then I realized it was me and my heart pounded so much it almost leapt from my chest. I knew Sigourney was coming. Patricia was at home and the midwife and Teresa would be there soon. I ran out of the King Edward Hotel and into a cab and blurted out my address. We were in bumper to bumper traffic and the cabbie was quite talkative - about what I have no idea because all I could think about is how I wanted to be home. Having seen a light in front of us turn green, yellow, red three times before we got to the intersection, I tossed the cabbie some money and said, “Don’t worry about it – I will run home,” and in my suit with my brief case, I started striding northbound between lines of nearly parked cars. I got home, huffing and puffing in my sweaty suit and Patricia was quite calm. I got changed, got ready and we timed contractions while waiting for the others to arrive.
Several hours later we celebrated Sigourney’s birth day.
For 5966 of those days, Sigourney has been missing, Patricia has been wanted by the law and I have been searching. Sigourney and I were only in each other’s lives (technically) for just over 600 of the first days of her life. But every day for 6574 days I have woken up each morning a father of two – my beloved Jesse whom I took a generous number of opportunities to say, “Guess What! I love being your dad!” + Sigourney who I have spent at least some of every one of over 5,900 days, searching and working towards a resolution of this conflict. I never feel that I have done enough.
Many of those days have been seemingly overwhelming as the ravages of sadness, sleep disorder, anger or anguish highjack my day, say to me, “turn off the phone, cancel your appointments – today you are my bitch.” Even looking at those words I just typed – ravage, anguish – it seems so melodramatic but if you have witnessed any mother or father in my shoes, or you are one yourself, you know those words don’t even do the levels of despair literary justice. Like living in a hurricane belt, you don’t look forward to it – nor do you resist it, you just bear down and remember you lived through the last one and the one before that.
And when others say to me, “You are so courageous,” I appreciate the kindness of what they say, but it doesn’t seem to be the right word either. I just do what any functionally bonded parent would do. It’s not bravery and it’s not noble and it’s not even integrity, it’s an unyielding compulsion to fulfill a promise you made to your child to prepare and protect them in life. A friend who knew Patricia and knows me said, “Oh my God, this has been your life’s work.” That’s how it turned out, in a way. It’s been like having the duty of a second job (a job you pay to work at) in very many ways. I can count the number of holidays I have found time for on one hand and the holidays that haven’t been Sigourney seeking or devoted to quality time with Jesse on one finger.
Still, I find time for things that I love that don’t take me too far from the phone. I love sports and I love music. Especially, seeing IndieCan through its infancy and helping young, deserving artists – this has been quite healing. It’s like I am helping other people’s children – the songs, in the absence of one of my own children. I am reminded often by well meaning friends that no child wants the pressure of being told “I sacrificed my whole life for you!” no matter what the circumstances. So, when I am not searching, I am making the best of life – some days much better than others.
At the time of writing we are only 1 ½ hours into Sigourney’s birthday and I don’t feel too bad - considering. This is a day of great symbolism for me as Sigourney transitions from child to young adult. I am faced with accepting defeat in my declaration to prepare and protect Sigourney throughout her childhood, come what may. The war Patricia declared on my fatherhood ends in success for her and failure for me. The day was never saved by the forces of good, despite noble efforts. Even in the eleventh hour, no one came to my families rescue. Patricia never saw fit to do what most would agree to be the right thing. As the Toronto International Film Festival leaves town today, there will be no Hollywood ending for the Sigourney story.
You might disagree with my conclusions as you read but check the score-board (Men love sports analogies). What is more pathetic than someone who can’t take a loss? We all know some sorry-ass person like this. Life is full of gambles; some of them just don’t go the way you wish.
Nothing really changes for me today – I am still looking and my arms will always be open wide to invite Sigourney into the life of her patriarchal family that she has been deprived of to date. The slight adjustment in my approach is that I am no longer appealing to her mother, Patricia. Sigourney is an adult and she can make her own choices.
Not that I wouldn’t talk to Patricia right now. Without knowing the present circumstances, it is likely that transitioning Sigourney back to the reality of her life would still be better with Patricia on board. But now it’s not necessary to appeal to Patricia. That’s the only small difference in my on-going search.
Now, about the quote at the top: Pardon the patriarchy of the wording. It was a century ago and I expect Longfellow would be more inclusive in his words today. This was a poet and an educator. A sensitive man who knows much suffering in his life, Longfellow came to the aid of his beloved wife who had accidentally set herself in flames. She would die a few days later from the burns and he would wear a beard the rest of his life to cover the burns he suffered in the rescue attempt.
Again, “If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.” Many years before, Confuses said, “To understand completely is to forgive completely.” I have been collecting quotes for a writing project lately and it has been enlightening. Longfellow, especially, because of his suffering in life, his words speak to me.
I have more actual dreams of meeting Patricia than I do of meeting Sigourney. Maybe it’s because I know what Patricia looks like. Maybe the theme of the dream will answer why. Always I am walking with her and I am struggling how to ask the question that will answer “Why did you do it?” And it’s not the excuse I am looking for and not the twisted fantasy of how she has God on her side or how, like the movie, “Minority Report” she imagines that she was saving our daughter from some future evil that I would inflict upon her. I want the truth, the root-cause. I want the damage report so that I can understand and so I can forgive. I loved Patricia. I don’t want to see her as a narcissistic sociopath. She is the woman I procreated with and the blood of my daughter.
Patricia’s brothers are still hostile to this day when my name comes up. Many other family members of Patricia’s are sympathetic to my families cause, but hands-off. So many – and I know some of you twisted fucks are reading this – know in their hearts that that they have conspired with Patricia and some of them feel ambivalent at very least. Patricia did not act alone. She was encouraged. She was enabled. Many more said nothing when speaking up would have been the right thing to do. I want to understand them all and the shit in their life that can allow them to be party to something so grotesque. When I try to think of the depth of damage it takes for each person who has taken her side - how can they be predisposed to the twisted stories that she tells without doubt or sober second thought? I cannot grasp it, but I want to and I have the small comfort from the wisdom of the ages that one day the facts will be known, and from them, healing can begin.
But for now, thanks for reading and for today, if we could all devote some well-wishes to Sigourney on her 18th birthday, I would be grateful.
A personal note: I didn't have the heart to delete this birthday wish. Should family find this and want it removed, PLEASE contact me via the comment section or email, which is listed below.
Updated March 20, 2018
Friday, September 18, 2009
On to Brazil... A Dads fight to find his daughter Update: Emily Machado Located
FINALLY, Emily has been added to NCMEC.
Missing: Mar 27, 2008
Missing From: BERWYN, IL.
Emily
may be in the company of her non-custodial mother. They may still be in the local area or they may travel out of state. Emily is Biracial. She is Hispanic and White. Emily's ears are pierced. Her nickname is Emma.
I have talked with Michael a few times. I KNOW he has been going through a rough time, fighting to get Emily entered into NCMEC. This Dad has hit too many brick walls for the last 6 months, and could use your support. So, even if you don't know of Emily's whereabouts, please stop by his Myspace profile, or Emily Machado Missing on Facebook, and show your support.
You can find more information about Emily on Find Emily Machado
I also posted on Current, trying to get Emily's information out there.
"What if the police and NCMEC took 6 months to report YOUR child missing?"
The above information about Emily was originally posted on October 1, 2008.
A year and 1/2 later, Emily is still missing!
Reporting
Dana Kozlov
It began as a one-man crusade to get his kidnapped daughter back.
CBS 2's Dana Kozlov reports the crusade is about to go global.
Former Berwyn resident Michael Sanchez is ready to fly to South America to find his daughter Emily himself.
He knows she's there and has been since she was kidnapped by her mother more than a year ago. He hasn't seen or talked to her since.
You may be surprised to learn that Sanchez isn't even remotely alone.
Man To Search For Missing Daughter In Brazil
"You may be surprised to learn that Sanchez isn't even remotely alone"
This statement continues to bounce around in my head. I am hardly surprised. Parental abduction is something I post about quite frequently. A simple google search, on parental abductions, will reveal many left-behind-parents reaching out for help... through online groups, forums, and blogs, across the globe!
Updated March 20, 2018
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
LOCATED!!! A 10+ year search
10 + years!
It's been a long haul in the search for my 2 sons.
Here is an edited copy of something I wrote on a discussion board...
Q: What happens when an abducted child ages up and becomes and adult? Do they return to the other parent? Are they notified that the other parent has been searching for them? Do they even know they have another parent or other family?
A: Post #2 BJ
The answer is as individual as the children involved
My Post
Great questions, with a good answer! I cannot speak for all circumstances or for all children...only from my own experience over the last 10 years.
First, I would like to give a major shout out to certain members of
Peace 4 the Missing
(you KNOW who you are!)
Even though I am not comfortable talking about some things at this time...due to circumstances, there are members at Peace 4 the Missing that had been very instrumental in helping with my search! Thank You!!!
Q: Do they return to the other parent?
A: I ASSUMED that all kids these days, including mine, will eventually google their own name (which would lead them to the various sites, posts, and messages I've written them over the years...WRONG!
(Due to current custody laws, my sons were never listed as missing by any organization...they were only missing to me! I call it 'legally kidnapped')
My oldest son
now admits that he hadn't realized that I considered him missing, and that he never considered googling his own name, because he didn't think anything would be there. He was quite surprised when I sent him links of the sites where I had info, and even more surprised at seeing his picture beside the word missing, everywhere.
My younger son
was 'cut off' from the outside world as much as a vengeful, alienating, family member could accomplish. His use of a computer was quite limited, and extremely monitored. He is almost 18 and just now learning about things such as myspace.
So if you are a parent in search, please do not make the mistake that I did. Do not assume your child will google their own name, frequent the popular 'kids sites' and find their own name on the internet.
It has been within the last few months that I have had the chance to 'compare notes' with my sons....
My oldest was 9 the last I had seen him. (Now almost 20)
His memory is quite vivid!
(scary, actually...lol. He accurately describes things that I have almost forgotten...such as where various furniture was located throughout our house, books that I had read to him as a child, and the various junker cars I had owned
)
My younger son was age 7 the last I had seen him. (Now almost 18)
He was told many lies over the years...he was told things such as:
They 'heard' that I was dead, and that I didn't want or love him. Apparently, whenever he recalled a memory that involved his previous life with me, he was told that these were 'made up/false' memories. He was basically brainwashed.
In the words of my older son...'he was not allowed to think'
The reunification process has been an interesting blessing.
I suppose that since my older son and I are alike in many ways, we are slower and more cautious at finding a 'comfortable zone' with each other. Neither of us are a chatter box...which leaves room for silence at times. We are both quite stubborn, and we are both a wise-a$$
Even though he would refer to me as mom, when talking with someone else:
(Such as 'I'm talking to my mom')
It took awhile before he actually called me mom, in direct reference:
(Such as 'hey mom...when will you come visit again?')
I have no problems with his 'reservations' and do not take offense, as I know it's been a long haul for all involved.
This is not so with the younger...within an hour or 2, I heard 'Hey mom!' every few minutes! He had always been the chatterbox of our family. He didn't even hold much reservation in talking problems about *ahem* guy issues...
things that, considering the circumstances, made me blush a bit!
My youngest (3rd) son has learned much about missing children/persons & his young life has been forever touched by my search for the 2 brothers he didn't even know. It was a joyous occasion when he finally got to meet his big brothers!
Both older sons live a few hundred miles away, and even though we seem to be doing well with the 'reunification process,' for now they both prefer to remain in the state that they currently reside in. We do, however, keep in contact via skype/webcam, email, and phone.
None of us are good at mailing snail-mail letters.
Both boys attended a small family reunion recently.
(The reunion went well, btw)
This reunification will be a work in progress for all involved, but all in all, it is going well.
Do they even know they have another parent or other family?
When I asked my oldest son if he REALLY believed that I had abandoned them...and didn't want them anymore, his response was that he did what he had to, to survive. *emotionally/mentally*
In other words, he had to pretend to believe that. Yet deep inside, he knew that something was amiss!
Again, my younger son was the 'target child'
He was led to believe that the abusive family member was the only person who 'cared' for and loved him. As suspected, he was taught to fear me...only the abusive abductor did not count on him standing up to her when he was older... she did not count on me finally getting a message to him. Nor did she count on his teenage curiosity. She did not expect my older son to get in contact, and let the younger one know that I am an ok mom. She did not count on the love we had for each other being stronger than his fear of her abuse. I thank God that this alienator cannot count!
Thank you to all who has taken the time to 'listen' and encourage me, when I was down...
I'm not sure I could have done this for 10 years, without the support I had found in small online communities such as Peace 4 the Missing!
It's been a long haul in the search for my 2 sons.
Here is an edited copy of something I wrote on a discussion board...
Q: What happens when an abducted child ages up and becomes and adult? Do they return to the other parent? Are they notified that the other parent has been searching for them? Do they even know they have another parent or other family?
A: Post #2 BJ
The answer is as individual as the children involved
My Post
Great questions, with a good answer! I cannot speak for all circumstances or for all children...only from my own experience over the last 10 years.
First, I would like to give a major shout out to certain members of
Peace 4 the Missing
(you KNOW who you are!)
Even though I am not comfortable talking about some things at this time...due to circumstances, there are members at Peace 4 the Missing that had been very instrumental in helping with my search! Thank You!!!
Q: Do they return to the other parent?
A: I ASSUMED that all kids these days, including mine, will eventually google their own name (which would lead them to the various sites, posts, and messages I've written them over the years...WRONG!
(Due to current custody laws, my sons were never listed as missing by any organization...they were only missing to me! I call it 'legally kidnapped')
My oldest son
now admits that he hadn't realized that I considered him missing, and that he never considered googling his own name, because he didn't think anything would be there. He was quite surprised when I sent him links of the sites where I had info, and even more surprised at seeing his picture beside the word missing, everywhere.
My younger son
was 'cut off' from the outside world as much as a vengeful, alienating, family member could accomplish. His use of a computer was quite limited, and extremely monitored. He is almost 18 and just now learning about things such as myspace.
So if you are a parent in search, please do not make the mistake that I did. Do not assume your child will google their own name, frequent the popular 'kids sites' and find their own name on the internet.
It has been within the last few months that I have had the chance to 'compare notes' with my sons....
My oldest was 9 the last I had seen him. (Now almost 20)
His memory is quite vivid!
(scary, actually...lol. He accurately describes things that I have almost forgotten...such as where various furniture was located throughout our house, books that I had read to him as a child, and the various junker cars I had owned
)
My younger son was age 7 the last I had seen him. (Now almost 18)
He was told many lies over the years...he was told things such as:
They 'heard' that I was dead, and that I didn't want or love him. Apparently, whenever he recalled a memory that involved his previous life with me, he was told that these were 'made up/false' memories. He was basically brainwashed.
In the words of my older son...'he was not allowed to think'
The reunification process has been an interesting blessing.
I suppose that since my older son and I are alike in many ways, we are slower and more cautious at finding a 'comfortable zone' with each other. Neither of us are a chatter box...which leaves room for silence at times. We are both quite stubborn, and we are both a wise-a$$
Even though he would refer to me as mom, when talking with someone else:
(Such as 'I'm talking to my mom')
It took awhile before he actually called me mom, in direct reference:
(Such as 'hey mom...when will you come visit again?')
I have no problems with his 'reservations' and do not take offense, as I know it's been a long haul for all involved.
This is not so with the younger...within an hour or 2, I heard 'Hey mom!' every few minutes! He had always been the chatterbox of our family. He didn't even hold much reservation in talking problems about *ahem* guy issues...
things that, considering the circumstances, made me blush a bit!
My youngest (3rd) son has learned much about missing children/persons & his young life has been forever touched by my search for the 2 brothers he didn't even know. It was a joyous occasion when he finally got to meet his big brothers!
Both older sons live a few hundred miles away, and even though we seem to be doing well with the 'reunification process,' for now they both prefer to remain in the state that they currently reside in. We do, however, keep in contact via skype/webcam, email, and phone.
None of us are good at mailing snail-mail letters.
Both boys attended a small family reunion recently.
(The reunion went well, btw)
This reunification will be a work in progress for all involved, but all in all, it is going well.
Do they even know they have another parent or other family?
When I asked my oldest son if he REALLY believed that I had abandoned them...and didn't want them anymore, his response was that he did what he had to, to survive. *emotionally/mentally*
In other words, he had to pretend to believe that. Yet deep inside, he knew that something was amiss!
Again, my younger son was the 'target child'
He was led to believe that the abusive family member was the only person who 'cared' for and loved him. As suspected, he was taught to fear me...only the abusive abductor did not count on him standing up to her when he was older... she did not count on me finally getting a message to him. Nor did she count on his teenage curiosity. She did not expect my older son to get in contact, and let the younger one know that I am an ok mom. She did not count on the love we had for each other being stronger than his fear of her abuse. I thank God that this alienator cannot count!
Thank you to all who has taken the time to 'listen' and encourage me, when I was down...
I'm not sure I could have done this for 10 years, without the support I had found in small online communities such as Peace 4 the Missing!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)