Rose Miller 
It’s fall season again and the cool weather sprung upon us quickly without warning. It’s time to change the closets to winter wardrobes, removing light clothes, and replacing them with warmer options.
As I turn to my oldest daughter’s closet in her empty room I can’t help the void I feel inside. It’s like someone just cut out a chunk of my heart and forced me to move on without it. I feel an overwhelming loss that she isn’t here. Oh, the lies she believes and the double standard she holds me to, angers me into hopelessness yet the morsel of hope I occasionally experience keeps me believing we will reunite when the time is right.
And then my son, my high-functioning autistic son, just below his alienated sister, just above a 1 year age gap. His closet is full, full of clothes still with tags waiting to be worn from the previous fall but I don’t know if the clothes still fit. I haven’t seen him in 10 months, since he ran away. Encouraged by my ex’s mom who hid a key for him and showed him the route between the two homes again like before I put down another piece of my broken heart and was forced to move on.
My son now sees that the grass isn’t greener on his father’s side but rather more neglectful and full of false promises. He was kicked out of his grandparents’ home and I wasn’t taking him back under those conditions. All the services, appointments, and therapists I spent months setting up, all fizzled out due to no contact from my ex and there was no way I was going back to dragging a 12-year-old to work every day.
I did it, I did it for over a year. I did drag my son to work every day. I did run with him to appointments. I had therapists and teachers and a team of doctors working with us to solve the riddle that was my son. I filed motions in court but he didn’t consent to anything needed to help this child.
But where is my son holding 10 months later? No school, no friends, no therapy, no appointments, no steps taken to move in to the direction that will put this child on a successful path. But here’s what did change in the last 10 months: my willingness to be my ex’s punching bag. (Read more: https://therosemillerstory.com/2020/09/04/5-boundaries-to-keep-a-toxic-ex-at-arms-length/)
I refuse to put in any more effort, to set it all up again to have the rug pulled out from under me. I will not be able to care for this child until a plan is in place with the parenting coordinator. I continue from a distance to send emails and reminders that his father isn’t doing anything for this child nor is he allowing me to either. I moved on from that control. He will not use his ‘parental rights’ to dictate how I live my life. I am moving on with a broken heart.
I had to move on because I have 4 more beautiful children, children who are happy with me. I add sweaters and jackets to their closets and have a clear understanding that as much as it hurts I know I did what I had to because he warned me that he wouldn’t stop until he turns every one of my children against me.
Funny, how the tables have turned. The child who ran towards the lies is now telling me months later that our daily phone call is the highlight of his day. Oh, how I resist the temptation to invite him back home only because I can’t care for him under his father’s control. I speak to him most days with a heavy heart because I know deep down that he is miserable and I should fight harder but I just won’t win on my own. My hands are tied and it’s not fair to have to choose between providing for my family and caring for my son because his father does neither.
Neglect, isn’t that a form of abuse? How many years of this nothingness does my son have to go through to be considered an emergency? Four years out of school seems quite clear that his father isn’t interested in making an effort to help his son. It’s a shame because these are precious years of development. It’s time that we can never fall back on.
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