Mom
Dear Mom,
Wherever you are, I hope these words find their way to you.
You've never left our thoughts. And I want to share some of my ongoing efforts to find you. Hope has been my constant companion, and I want you to know that your children have consistently made efforts to locate you. The core message here is that, that you've always held a place in our hearts—you are loved, and you are missed.
The last memory I have of you dates to the fall of 1997, when we met in a downtown coffee shop. That day will forever be etched in my mind with vivid details because it was a moment when you seemed poised to embrace a new chapter in your life, prioritizing your own well-being over constantly caring for others. Back then, I didn't fully comprehend the significance of that decision, but I have always respected your choice. In the subsequent years, the meaning behind that pivotal moment became clearer to me. I realized the importance of finding my own path as you were finding yours.
As the years unfolded, our communication gradually dwindled, until the gaps between our contacts became unusually prolonged. At that time, I didn't believe for a moment that you were missing. I dismissed not knowing your whereabouts as you are needing time to heal. I made earnest attempts to locate you, fuelled by the desire to reconnect, only to eventually confront the stark reality that, for me and my sisters at least, you had gone missing. Time passed, stretching into decades, and the search for you has been a persistent journey marked by unanswered questions and an enduring sense of loss.
Coping with this has been my most significant and enduring struggle. We have struggled with not knowing your location, and the persistent worry about your well-being. I feared that you might have become homeless.
Around the time that I realized that you were missing, I was working in the toughest parts of downtown. While at work, I regularly witnessed individuals either pushing shopping carts filled with their belongings, or having just arrived in town with everything they owned in their backpacks. It became clear to me that these people were resilient souls, navigating life on the streets, grappling with the challenges of addiction, mental illness, trauma and more. It was at this time that I really struggled the most with not knowing your whereabouts. I realized that some of these individuals were missing persons to their family, just like you were now missing to us. This experience was truly life-altering and had a profound impact on me. I had always observed street involved people with empathy, but that lens had now changed to one that included worries about you.
I acknowledge the limitations on speculating about your location, but I have been unable to shake that thought ever since.
I also grappled with guilt for many years. Eventually I made the crucial decision to leave a stable career and embark on a new path that held greater meaning and fulfilment for me. One of the options that resonated with me at the time was social work. My main motivation had become to help others, but I also wanted to acquire a skill that could aid me in finding you.
My initial interactions with people that needed help were sporadic at first. They involved casual conversations but eventually, I began to distribute essentials like, food, money, clothing, etc. As time passed, my involvement expanded to assembling care packages with toiletries and warm socks. I've driven an individual to a hospital, escorted a few to street churches and local shelters, shared numerous meals with them, and equipped many with printed information on available city services.
Over the decades, I've had numerous conversations with people living on the streets, and the encounters most were characterized by simple acts of kindness. It also often led to me asking questions such as : "My mom has been missing for a long time. How can I find her? What's the likelihood that she's safe, and have you seen her?" This line of questioning consistently left those that I spoke with momentarily disarmed, leading to a shared moment of understanding. Mostly, the responses were hard to hear and brought no results. A few instances even led me on wild goose chases, some even putting me in potentially unsafe situations.
My pursuit to locate you has spanned three major cities over many many years and I will never stop.
You have three children that love you and eagerly await your return into our lives.
Over the years of searching, I've had the privilege of connecting with a handful of individuals who've generously shared their stories with me. Like me they have navigated complex emotions and have been looking for closure. For the ones that have closure, it either stemmed from finding their missing loved one, or sadly, finding that they had passed away.
I haven't divulged this part of my life too many people, but I am stepping out in yet another attempt to find you. A friend suggested, "Ian, grappling with your mom's disappearance isn't yours to bear alone; you're not hard to find." As challenging as it was to hear, it’s the truth. Given my profession, I can be found if you are able and willing to find me. That conversation became the catalyst for me to put this webpage together.
During my search for you and my interactions with people living on the margins, I've learned some valuable lessons. The most significant lesson is that many people are too busy to help. Often, timing is the biggest barrier to making connections.
I hope this message reaches you at a time you're ready to come to reconnect with your children. We would have you back in our lives without hesitation.
Amid the challenges and genuine struggles we faced growing up, I'm amazed by your resilience, Mom. You created a loving and warm environment for us, an undertaking that probably felt impossible at times. I deeply appreciate your love and relentless efforts. Your actions spoke louder than words and although it took me years to piece it all together; well done, Mom. The memory of your laughter is something I'll always cherish, and the echoes of your unique chuckle, a comforting "yup," linger with me like a soothing melody.
I dream some days that you're in a serene cottage, sipping tea by a warm fire, immersed in your favourite book, relishing in the joy of life, all the while watching your family from afar. I hope that by creating this website for you, you will be inspired to reach out and reconnect with your family. We care about your well-being, and we love you.
I’ll finish with this. As you read this, know that I’m still searching for you and that the memories of us will endure. But I yearn to create new ones like holding your hand, witnessing you embrace your grandchildren for the first time, and introducing you to my beautiful wife.
There are moments when my phone rings, my heart clings to the hope that, perhaps, it will be your voice on the other end. The memories and the ringing of my phone have all become threads of connection, weaving a tapestry of hopeful anticipation. They help me hold on to the comforting belief that our paths will cross again.
You’re a beautiful, caring, empathic, compassionate, resilient, amazing human, and your children love you very much. Please come home.
Ian Jules
250 885 1451