My son locked the door when I went to see himand pretended he wasnt home.
I know he was inside.
I saw the light shining under the door.
I heard the television as well.
But when I knocked, there was that silence that only comes when someone deliberately doesnt want to answer.
I stood outside the door and waited.
I knocked again.
Then a third time.
Eventually, I simply leaned against the wall in the hallway and whispered,
Oliver I know youre in there.
Nothing.
Only the television kept talking.
In that moment I realised a person can feel more lonely standing in front of a closed door than they do when theyre completely alone.
Im his mother.
I raised him by myself.
His father left when Oliver was six.
I remember walking him to school every morning. How I stayed awake at night when he had a fever.
I even remember how, as a little boy, he was terrified of the dark and would climb into my bed.
Mum, dont leave me alone.
And now, here I was, standing alone in front of his door.
A few minutes later the lift opened.
Mrs Thompson from the third floor came out.
She glanced at me.
Are you waiting for someone?
I gave her an awkward smile.
My son.
She looked at the door.
But hes just come in.
My heart tightened.
I know.
I took the stairs down because I didnt want to wait for the lift and burst into tears in front of everyone.
When I stepped out onto the pavement, my phone vibrated.
A message.
From Oliver.
Mum, Im sorry. It just wasnt the right moment.
The right moment.
Those words felt so unfamiliar.
I didnt sleep all night.
The next day I decided not to text him.
If someone doesnt want to open their door for you, you cant make them.
Three days passed.
Then my phone rang.
It was Oliver.
His voice sounded different.
Mum can we meet?
Why?
He paused for a moment.
Because something happened yesterday.
What?
The neighbours son asked me something.
He sighed.
He asked why his grandma always comes to their house but my mum never comes to see me.
My heart ached.
And what did you tell him?
Nothing I didnt know what to say.
Then he whispered,
I realised that if I carry on like this, one day my own son will think its normal to shut the door on his mum.
A quiet moment followed.
Mum will you come over again?
I looked at my phone for ages.
Then, softly, I said,
Will you open the door this time?
On the other end I heard a simple answer.
Yes.
And sometimes, that’s the hardest thing in the world for a person.
To open the door.
What would you do, if you were in my place?
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