A few things...

Hey Mom!

I never told you this before, but…well, there are a few things actually. Gosh. My hands are shaking as I type this. It shouldn't have taken me so long, I know that. I was…well I was angry. Angry at dad, the world, you - even though you didn't deserve it. That anger blinded me to a lot you did for me growing up.

My stomach feels like it's eating itself right now, my hands are sweaty, my heart is heavy. I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so so sorry for all the worrying and grief and gray hairs that I've caused. These two words seem so inadequate to convey the regret and remorse I harbor. I guess I wanted to be like dad more. I see now how he forced you to be the strict one, a mom to both of us really. I thought drinking made you fun and I thought you could be more like us, more carefree. Little did I know how much you had to pick up the pieces of our family, how much you did to keep us together. How did you do it? I apparently inherited Dad's genes when it comes to strength, well, lack of.

I’m sorry I caused you more stress and anxiety in your life life. You deal with so much, you shouldn’t have had to also worry about if your son was going to come home, if you were going to get a call again that your boy was in an accident, or worse, get a knock at the door. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you shared how all that impacted you, how I laughed when you told me I gave you PTSD. How could I have been such an asshole? I hear my laugh at night sometimes when I’m trying to sleep, replaying that disagreement over and over. You didn’t deserve any of that. You were so honest with me and I never was with you, I only belittled you, thinking you were weak. I’m not sure I could have been more wrong.

That brings me to the next thing I never told you - thank you. My God Mom, out of all the trials and tribulations in my life, I can at least say I've known unconditional love. Man, I sure tested that too. Thank you for driving me to work after I rolled my car, for pushing and encouraging me to go to AA, for always welcoming me back home. Whether it was after disappearing for a couple of days (I'll never forget how you hugged me and full-body sobbed when I finally returned) or storming out after a drunken rage, you never took away my bed, my home. You accepted me. I can't thank you enough for that.

In my meetings, I met a lot of people that were abandoned, shunned by their families, and I saw the pain and hurt it caused them. Instead, you took that pain on for me. It must have nearly killed you to see someone you love so much be reckless and roll the dice with their life so often. I hope someday you'll be able to sleep easy again without waking up, panicked, wondering if I made it home. I felt so much shame living with my parents and being almost 30. Coming home on my own terms was a way to feel independent. God I was so selfish. I want to ask for your forgiveness but that feels selfish too, serving only to ease my guilt. The thing is though, I know you already have forgiven me because that's who you are, that's the unconditional love you've showered me with since birth. Thank you for that, Mom.

I'm glad I'm typing this because a paper letter would show signs of my tears at this point. This last part brings me the most regret. I can't believe I haven't told you this more, I'm not sure I can articulate why I didn't. It's just three words. Stubbornness? Ego? Saying it would make me weak? I now know that fear of weakness was, and still is, my true Achilles heel. I've been so afraid to be honest with you, with everyone, with myself, about who I turned out to be. I thought I'd be at a much different place in life right now and I've felt pathetic for not being there. Instead of owning that and being honest, I hid behind cockiness, indifference and a fog of booze and weed.

I'm not hiding anymore because of you, Mom. You've shown me what true strength is and true strength is vulnerability. I love you, Mom. I love you I love you I love you. I love your heart, your persistence, your unwavering faith. I love that your voice is the first voice I hear in the morning, urging me to get out of bed. I love that on every single list of chores, you never left out words of support, no matter how frustrated you were with me. And I love how BIG your heart is, Mom. From your students, to your animals, to your family, you give nothing less than your all. I hope you know how special that is and that more days now, you show yourself that same love and grace that you give so many others. Mom, you more than deserve it.

Lastly, I know that words are wind. I know that I’ve said what I know you’ve wanted to hear in the past and that was it, I stopped there. I promise I’m going to change that though. I will be honest with you and myself about my struggles, my vices. I will ask for help and listen to what others say. Most of all though, I will show up for you. I will be the son that you deserve and start to try to return all the love and sacrifice you showed me. No more taking you for granted, no more abusing your kindness, no more holding you back from living your life. I will get on with mine so you can with yours. I am going to back my words with actions, just you watch.

Phew. That's about it. Because of you, I'm alive, I'm the man I am today. You showed me what it's like to be a good person, a real man: you show up, you love unconditionally and you always let the people you care about know so. I'm sorry for all I've done that hurt you, I thank you for the support, opportunity and second (and third and fourth) chances you gave me, and I love you. My mother. My heart. I love you more every single day as I continue to learn and appreciate all that you've done for me.

Ja kocham cię!

Your favorite son,

Charles