My son locked the door when I went to visit him, and pretended he wasnt home.
I knew he was inside.
I saw the light on.
I heard the TV.
But when I rang the bell, everything went quiet in that particular way that only happens when someone deliberately doesnt want to answer.
I stood outside the door, waiting.
I rang a second time.
Then a third.
Finally, I just leaned against the wall in the hallway and whispered,
Harry I know youre in there.
Nothing.
Only the TV carried on.
In that moment, I realised a person can feel more alone standing in front of a closed door than being alone in their own company.
I am his mother.
I raised him on my own.
His father left when Harry was six.
I remember walking him to school every morning. Staying up all night when he had a fever.
I remember how, as a little boy, he was frightened of the dark and would crawl into my bed.
Mum, please dont leave me on my own.
And now, here I was, standing alone outside his door.
After a few minutes, the lift doors opened.
My neighbour from the third floor stepped out.
She glanced at me.
Waiting for someone?
I managed an awkward smile.
My son.
She looked over at the door.
But he just came in.
My heart sank.
I know.
I went down the stairs since I didnt want to wait for the lift and risk crying in front of people.
When I got out onto the street, my phone buzzed.
A message.
From Harry.
Mum, Im sorry. It just wasnt the right moment.
The right moment.
Those words felt so distant.
I didnt sleep all night.
The next day, I decided not to text him.
If someone doesnt want to open their door to you, you cant force them.
Three days passed.
Then my phone rang.
It was Harry.
His voice sounded different.
Mum can we see each other?
Why?
He paused.
Because something happened yesterday.
What?
The neighbours son asked me something.
He sighed.
He asked why his grandmother always comes to visit, but my own mum never comes round.
My heart twisted.
And what did you say?
Nothing I didnt know what to say.
Then he whispered,
I realised that if I keep acting like this, one day my son will think its normal to shut the door on his mother.
There was silence.
Mum will you come again?
I stared at my phone for a long time.
Then I spoke, quietly,
This time, will you open the door?
From the other side, came one simple sentence.
Yes.
And sometimes, thats the hardest thing for a person to do.
To open the door.
What would you do in my place?
