My son cut off contact – I’m cutting him from my will

‘I don’t want you to come to lunch,’ my son, Jimmy*, told me before his graduation. 

When I asked why, he replied: ‘Dad is coming… it just wouldn’t work’. 

His dad and I had divorced years ago and barely seen each other since. But I couldn’t disguise my hurt and had a miserable time. When they went to lunch, I bought a sandwich, went to the park and cried.

It was the first sign Jimmy wanted me out of his life for good.

Growing up, my son was the apple of my eye. I loved him to bits. 

He was 10 when his father and I got divorced. It took its toll, but when I got remarried Jimmy wanted me to be happy.

He decided to move away to study at university and we went to the open days together, just the two of us. I loved the closeness.

But, after his graduation, I could feel us drifting.

When my family came from abroad to stay, my oldest son came home – but I never heard from Jimmy. I rang and messaged but he didn’t pick up. 

It was a shame, but I told myself that Jimmy and I still spent time together; we both loved art and food and I would go on day trips to London to see him.

Then, on my birthday, I got a quick phone call but Jimmy ended it quickly, claiming poor signal.

It wasn’t until the following month he sent me a text saying that he could no longer keep in touch.

He said that he was getting therapy and would contact me when he was ready. I was heartbroken, shocked, in disbelief and denial – I even thought it was a joke and that he wanted to turn up and surprise me.

I rang my oldest son who told me he wanted to stay out of it. That was hard; I felt he had more information than he was letting on.

For two years, I couldn’t go near Jimmy’s bedroom without bursting into tears. My friends’ kids were growing up and getting jobs. I didn’t know whether to discuss it with anybody and even if I wanted to, I didn’t know what to say.

I was so ashamed. Jimmy was still in touch with his father and brother, so I assumed I was the problem.

Eventually, I became suicidal. Family and friends did not know how to help. I just wanted the situation to change.

Occasionally, I would ask my eldest about his brother and was continually frustrated that he was so cagey. But, my husband reminded me: My oldest still cared. I shouldn’t turn every conversation with him into one about Jimmy.  

My own therapist advised me it could be a long process. It would be up to Jimmy to keep in touch if he wanted. 

I continued to email on birthdays to no response. Once, I phoned Jimmy and he just asked how I’d got his number. 

I said I wanted to say hello and hear his voice. Jimmy told me he wasn’t ready to chat. 

After two-and-a-half years, I stopped trying to contact my son.

Since then, I have sent Jimmy a Christmas present through his brother, which he apparently took though I never got any thanks. That hurt. To send a birthday card, or an email to say thank you, or just: ‘I’m still not ready yet but I’m OK…’ The fact that he doesn’t want to keep in touch at all is very painful.

However, I’ve got lots of people in my life who know me and who matter to me. I don’t believe in maintaining a relationship with someone who doesn’t make an effort.

We have now been estranged for five years. If anything was to happen to me, I don’t even want Jimmy to know about it. If I drop dead, I don’t want him at my funeral, and I have decided to change my will. 

I’m going to be 62 this year. I know from LinkedIn that Jimmy has a job; beyond that, I have an idea of where he lives but no address or number. 

I miss him. On holiday, whenever I see something beautiful, I think ‘Jimmy would love that’. I’d be really happy if he were back in my life, to have a meal with him – even just a McDonald’s like when he was young. I would like to feel special to him, but only if it was genuine. 

I’ve imagined every scenario where I see him – being angry, opening my arms – but now I feel removed. My hope is fading. I worry that the longer our estrangement goes on, the less Jimmy will want or need me. 

I’ve done a lot of work on it, I’ve talked to people and come to terms with it and I know he doesn’t stay away because I’m a bad mother, necessarily. The problem is that Jimmy has to understand a lot of issues himself. I would love for him to come to me and say: ‘I really need to talk.’ 

*Name has been changed

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

Share your views in the comments below.