Dear Honey Bunches of Oats

…….. The following was written in October of 2013. It was a pretty trying time for me. It was an open letter to my son pinned on my blog at the time and shared on Shutterfly. As I found it today and reflected upon the words that were written, I could not help but to think about what is unfolding in his life today. It makes me happy that I jotted it down at that time way back in 2013 when it was fresh and sincere. Resonates so much today, seeing how he is going through some of the things he is going through. I pasted it below without edits because it was written exactly how I would want it read to this day.

…..Is something so massive you can’t get it out of your head, though you bury it or make repeat efforts; by which only cause you to suffer in silence if suppressed. I choose mental health instead, and wish so many others would. Truth is the only anecdote. The truth for me was giving birth to you- a beautiful gift from GOD and beauty for ashes! The only way I can be here for you, is to be here for me. I have to be well in order for you to be well. I know that hiding the truth will not keep you protected- it would only materialize later in forms of confusion and conflict. I would never be the conductor of that train wreck! This is why I fight for you!

The truth is what you can’t get over, under or around. It’s what GOD is and since you were made in his image and likeness – you are the truth. You are what cannot not be hidden. You represent facts that are not acknowledged, often ignored and for some… Who want to pretend your existence is based on anything else, you are still here.

Let’s start with your name. Deon ‘ Cornelius’ Kenny. It was the name given to you at birth, and is on your original birth certificate. Your first name is my middle name, but spelled more masculine. Mine is Dionne. Your middle name came from a man. That man is your grandfather. It is his middle name as well. It is the bridge between your mother and her father by which your existence of a real man came through to sustain your last name, as Kenny. He was the ONLY male figure you knew about while I was carrying you. He is my dad and your grandfather. When you were born, he held you as you were his because you are his blood line. He stepped in to make sure you had a positive role male model, and an example of a man and a father as well as to nurture you as a boy.

You were born into a fight and unfortunately you have been used as collateral by a court empowered by your biological father. The things he told me during the time of your conception were quite different from what he was telling everyone around him, leaving them all surprised when I announced I was pregnant. As a result, lies compounded into a volcano. That volcano is erupting and evil is the lava. I refuse to allow you to be burned! I will extinguish it through prayer and the truth.

Your conception was not by two unwilling parties who knew nothing about what was going on. Instead, it was two very well, highly educated, adults and professionals who equally played a part in your conception. Your father, being in healthcare knows how babies are made. There were no secrets nor hidden agendas nor force that brought you here by me. Your father and I knew the possibility of you coming to exist when we took part in our estranged encounter. He was very aware and informed of the consequence that may prevail.

While this is truth, he expected me to terminate the pregnancy as if an abortion was birth control. With his trail if deception creeping upon his life that would expose truth, he panicked. His mother, your grandmother later asked why is it that I decided to have you. The insinuation that I had any other choice after you were already a fetus, uttered evil. Those words still sting. They linger like untreated cancer. They could have been fatal. However, because I was strong and supported by my mom, dad and sisters as well as close friends; you never had to feel that sting. I have protected you from day one and always will. However, I will not hide the truth from you.

Many things have taken place since your birth that would kill the average person. However, I’m not average and so I still exist. I exist to continue to give you the best of me and praise GOD for your existence. God sees, hears and knows all even that which is not said. Even with the possibility of two potentially different perceptions or perspectives, the truth is what it is and two people for certain know exactly what that is! Something about the truth is, people like to bury it. But you can’t when it’s alive. You can’t act like it didn’t happen, by covering it up with deceptive lies about how it happened. All I hope to instill upon you, son, is the truth about why things are happening the way they are.

If you do not see me, it is not because I don’t want to see you. When you can’t wake up to my kisses, read a book with me, watch your favorite program, eat rice, play in the park and ride your blue bike; it’s not because I don’t want you to. When I can’t tuck you in and sing “Yes, Jesus loves you”, or teach you how to write your name and count to one hundred, it’s not because I don’t want to. When I can’t bathe you, dress you, comb your hair, and love on you like I always have, it is not because I don’t want to. If I can’t take you to the Circus, Lego festival, kids museum, children’s expo, or play in the water, go swimming and to the library, and expose your senses to all the fun and educational thing life has to offer; it’s not because I wanted to stop. Don’t let anyone tell you that ever AGAIN. If I can’t teach you where all the continents are on your favorite globe, take you to the wonders of the world and play Elmo hands, or sing the wheels on the bus, and read to you your children’s bible, It’s certainly not because I requested not to. If I can’t play your favorite DVD while riding in the car, dance with you to your favorite tune with the Disney car boom box, or play the guitar and keyboard, or show you the functions of your leap frog and other V-Tech stations; I did not ask to stop. If we can’t sit at your table in your room and have circle time learning colors, shapes and sounds like we’ve always done, know that I miss it too. If we can’t play hiding seek, peek- a-boo, Simon says and abracadabra; I am imaging the times that we did. If you cannot ride your fleet of cars down the street while laughing at me chase you to turn the wheel, walk to the mailbox, prank call nana and papa Kenny, and wear your rain boots while the sun is shining; I won’t do it without you. While we can’t sit in the closet and practice tornado drills and watch the homedics machine project images of fish creatures in the dark, or jump upstairs while you are on my back; we will soon!

If I can’t continue to provide you with the stable, loving and nurturing environment, that I always have while you have been sick or well—know that I had NO part in that change. Your home will always be right here on Story Book Trail. The rest, I know you will figure out. You were conceived on March 17th 2010 and I haven’t forgotten one detail since then. Should you ever have questions, I will only give you the truth.

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