If Only You Knew

Today is your birthday.

I’m sorry that you don’t hear anyone singing to you.

I’m sorry that there are no presents.

I’m sorry that you have been locked away for a full decade, and that no one has ever come to rescue you from the prison in which you live.

I know you don’t know it, but there’s at least one person 

here who would love to call you son.

There is at least one person who wishes you were home.

One person, at least one person on this planet, is thinking about you today, wishing she could sing to you, hug you, bake you a cake, buy you presents, and celebrate the day of your birth.

I’m sorry that I’m not there with you. I’m sorry you aren’t here with me.

I’m sorry that I can’t be your mom, and that I haven’t fulfilled my vow to find someone who will be.

I wish I could do something more.

How do I keep shouting when no one listens?

How do I stop shouting when I’m the only voice you have?

I know that time is running out.

I know that your chance of rescue is slim, and that soon it will be too late.

I know this isn’t a happy birthday, but I pray that it is the last one you spend alone.

I can’t be your mama, but I can love you like you are my son.

I can fight for you as my son. Whatever it takes, I won’t let go until you are home.

Happy Birthday, my sweet Kolya.  You are loved. 

If only you knew.