One of my favorite memories of my childhood was when my mom and I used to go every other weekend to a small frozen yogurt shop. Just the two of us would drive to the shop when it first opened to beat the long lines. Mom’s favorite flavor was usually something citrus, like orange or cherry. I was a chocolate fan. 

But that special time with my mom ended in fourth grade. That time that I miss so dearly, the time I wish I could have back with her.

***

One afternoon, I came home from school to dead silence.

I went to pour Goldfish into one of the little bowls I had in my cabinets for my after-school snack. The sound of the fish hitting the bowl filled the air, but the silence was still noticeable. Nobody was there to ask how my day was or if anything interesting happened at school.

I went upstairs, confused. 

As I set my stuff down in my room, I heard my three-year-old little brother, screaming, crying, scared. 

Rushing into the next room, I found him and my mom. She was passed out on the ground, face first, next to a tipped over beer bottle. I could feel it hit me, the dread. My stomach sank.

I pulled my brother out of the room to call my stepdad at work. He rushed home to take care of all of us. 

I didn’t see my mom for another three days.  I couldn’t understand what was going on. I was scared for her well being, and I was scared that I would never see her again. 

That fear became a reality.

She had gone away to get help, so I assumed things would get better when she came back . I thought she would come back and be my mom, still be there to ask me how I was after school and still be there to take me to our favorite frozen yogurt shop. But she didn’t come back. 

I knew things had gotten serious fast after my dad removed me from the house a week later.

My life was about to change.

***

As a kid, I liked Pokémon cards, Legos, and playing video games. After she left, I stopped enjoying a lot of those things because they held memories with her. I became quiet and reserved at school.

I wish I could say this was the last time something like this happened.

***

But it wasn’t, and I wasn’t surprised. I’ve made several attempts at living with Mom again over the past few years, only to be pushed away because there simply wasn’t enough room for a son and alcohol. I made so many attempts at making things okay again, only to be left hanging.

I never knew that I would struggle to have a relationship with my mom. To have lost the one relationship that I could count on was serious pain. I just wanted what my classmates had  with their moms.

But she and I can’t ever talk about what happened. There’s too much hurt between us. Between my family.

  ***

It has been so frustrating, and so disheartening. I’ve spent so much time trying to do something to fix our relationship. I know it’s not in my control. But my heart can’t accept that. I still want to do something to make her love me the way she used to.

Her use of alcohol has divided my family, splitting people into sides and doing nothing but creating tension. I have so many family members on her side who I haven’t heard from in years. I don’t have a chance at having a relationship with those people any more. Even my Dad and Stepmom still suffer to this day because of several of the repercussions that have come from this. So many of my loved ones, hurt, or gone from my life.

I miss the feeling of being able to go and getting ice cream with my mom. When my family suggests going to get some, I usually refuse, or go by myself some other time.

The memory hurts too much.