Relationships
How I Came To Lose My Son
Kidnapped
It is now seven years since I last saw my thirteen year old son. In all that time he called me once and was cut off by his mother after he said just two words, "Hello Pappy." I have no doubt the boy has been terrorised into silence by a vindictive ex. Indeed, I saw lots of terror in his young face during the last six months of my usual on and off, patch-work contact with him.
During periods when his mother was denying contact I used to take the trouble to seek him out at school. There I was horrified to hear that my ex had been to the school telling them that all mention of me on his school reports was to be deleted. If the school failed to act on her demands she told them she would sue them. Thankfully the school refused to play her little games.
During the same visit the boys teacher allowed me to see the boy and it was so sad to see him shying away from me. A few times I went at home time only to discover that his mother had collected him. However on one occasion he had left school to walk home. I caught up with him in the car about halfway home and pulled up alongside him. I called out to him across the pavement and he ignored me and quickened his pace. I got out of the car and ran after him.
"Hey lil fella, what's up, you don't wanna speak with me?"
"I can't."
"Why?"
"You know why."
"Are you scared of her?"
"What do you think? Just go please before she sees us and I get into trouble."
We walked about another hundred yards with me asking him how was school etc and getting no response. Suddenly she popped out from behind a big oak tree and stood angrily glaring at my son. I saw a look of total and utter terror on his young face. I bid him goodbye and he couldn't even respond to that. As he and she walked homewards away from me I over heard her say....
"What have I told you about speaking to him? He's not your father. Forget about him."
Eventually I denounced her to the courts and there was a trial. She brought the boy with her. He was asked to wait outside whilst we went into the courtroom. She gave her usual pack of lies and protested that the boy wanted nothing to do with me. After less than ten minutes we were all asked to leave the courtroom and to send the boy in on his own.
After about ten minutes we were all asked back into the courtroom and the boy was sent back out. Once the door was closed the judge spoke.
"Well, there is clearly something troubling the boy but he would not say what it was. All he would say was he didn't want any contact with his father, but that he couldn't say why."
Of course he wouldn't say why, he knew only too well that that would get him into deep trouble with his mother. Maybe she had told him that if he admitted it was because of her instructions she could be sent to jail, it would not surprise me in the least.
Back outside the court building I sat at a coffee bar near the main door of the court building, hopeful of snatching a little contact with the boy. He came out with his mother and her solicitors and gave me a quick glance of no more than a second. That was one of the the last times I ever saw him.
After that debacle, the boy was effectively kidnapped, or illegally removed from the country without my permission. Sadly the authorities chose to do nothing about it. You can read the full story of his kidnapping via the link below, In Search of A Lost Child.
I never could figure out how a mother who professes to love her child could put him or her through that sort of ordeal. It must have been such a traumatic experience for my son. To see his father erased from his life in such a cold callous way beggars belief.
Up until those latter days of contact I had always had a very close loving relationship with my son. He was my hero and I was his. At night he would even sneak into bed alongside of me whilst I was fast asleep.
We did so many things together, sailing, surfing and swimming. I had also taken him on holiday three times to the United Kingdom to see his grandmother and generally have a good time.
I remember one day when I went to collect him for a weekend and I told him we were going into town so that I could buy him some clothes. he told me he had lots of normal clothes but needed some sportswear for his karate classes. So off we went to the Nike Outlet to get him kitted out.
Nike Outlets are great because they sell the sportswear at heavily discounted prices. When I returned him to his mother the following day and she saw the Nike sportswear she went ballistic with both of us. She accused me of trying to make him love me more than he loved her by buying him expensive clothes. The poor boy was in floods of tears such was her horrible verbal onslaught.
I also remember her deciding to organise out of school English classes for him. "Excuse me..." I told her ".....in case you've forgotten I am English and a professional teacher. The person you have contracted is a failed ex student of mine. Are you mad?" In the end, to keep the peace I not only accepted but I also paid the incompetent girl to teach him.
And one more abiding memory was my son's baptism. I paid for his outfit, the food and drink and a very big cream baptism cake. After the service I was invited back to her house for the party, I didn't really feel like it but I didn't want to upset the boy, so I went. In less than five minutes I wished I hadn't bothered.
As I walked into the massive farm garage full of her family and some of my son's friends I was greeted with civility by one or two of them. Then I saw my ex brother in law at the BBQ. I went over to say a polite hello and held out my hand. He looked at me like I was dog shit and declined my outstretched hand.
"YOU...." he bellowed at the top of his voice ".....ARE NOT HIS FATHER. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
I was mortified, the ungracious bastard was eating and drinking the food and drink I had paid for and sought to thank me with insults. The whole garage space went into a deathly silence, glasses of beer and sandwiches hung mid air. You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife. On the point of tearing up, I simply turned on my heels and made my way to my car to leave. It was all too much. I had spent my last pennies on this freekin party and treated like I was some sort of ogre.
Will I ever see my son again? I seriously doubt it.He's one of them now and probably sees me as some sort of loser monster. I'm not even sure sometimes if I ever want to see him. If it is to be treated in such an appalling fashion as before I don't need it. Who knows what the future holds, who knows?
Aldric Chen Esther George Aldric Chen Michael Nagy Rebecca Stevens A. Esther George Rui Alves Terry Mansfield Abigail Storm Mike Janowski Random Jones Judge-Mental Fiona RobinsonJames mothersbaugh Keith Kollmann Julie Greenidge Denise Shelton Ash K WordsWereSaid Jack Albrecht
https://readmedium.com/in-search-of-a-lost-child-18d4c2c20070?sk=af7e5756d755e8d778402812096e7319