And now she has accused him of attempted murder and assault. At first I believed her. But the more I talked to her, the more her story didn't add up, and then after he was arrested and released back to the custody of his parents, I got to talk to Mark, and hear his side of the story, and then I really didn't believe her, because he did admit to striking her, though not in any sort of forceful way.
I've known about this for a couple weeks, and just kind of been holding on, trying to hope, praying, and it seeming like the evidence is so crap that the case will not go anywhere. And it's been up and down, back and forth about whether I will even get to see him at all while I am there. It seems probable right now, but no certainty.
And so today I decided to start packing, and as I am packing, I realize I have no idea where my passport is. I cannot find it. I look all around. I find my -old- invalid passport, but cannot find my passport. Then I find it, and I am still sad. It finally all comes to a head. And I just start sobbing. I am sad that someone would do something like this to my son. I feel so helpless being able to do nothing for him. I want to save him from all pain and suffering, and here he is with so much heaped upon him. And I just think over and over, Why? Why is this happening? Why would she do this to him? Why? Why? Why? Why would someone be like that? Why would someone want to destroy someone else's life like that?
Before this all happened, people would ask me what I was going to do in Australia, and wonder if I was going to see much. Since my main plan was to cook and sing and play games with Mark, I did not figure I would get out to see much, so I'd say no. And they would seem a little confused. I leave in eight days, and I don't know what I am doing while I am there. I don't know if I will get to meet this boy who has touched my life, and changed me, and blessed me with the title of mom. But I do know one thing: that even if I don't, the trip was worth it. It is worth the chance.