My son locked the door when I went to see him and pretended he wasnt home.
I knew he was inside.
I saw the light was on.
I heard the television playing.
But when I rang the bell, there was that silencethe kind that only happens when someone deliberately doesnt want to answer.
I stood in front of his door and waited.
I rang again.
Then a third time.
Finally, I just leaned against the wall in the corridor and whispered:
Oliver I know youre in there.
Nothing.
Only the television kept on talking.
In that moment, I realised a person can feel lonelier standing in front of a closed door than actually being alone.
Im his mother.
I raised him by myself.
His father left when Oliver was just six years old.
I remember walking him to school every morning. I remember staying up all night when he had a fever.
I remember how, as a little boy, he was scared of the dark and would climb into my bed.
Mum, please dont leave me alone.
And now, I was the one alone, standing outside his door.
A few minutes later, the lift opened.
Mrs. Jenkins from the third floor stepped out.
She looked at me.
Are you waiting for someone?
I smiled awkwardly.
My son.
She glanced at the door.
But he just came back.
My heart sank.
I know.
I walked down the stairsI didnt want to wait for the lift and risk crying in front of anyone.
When I stepped onto the street, my mobile vibrated.
A message.
From Oliver.
Mum, Im sorry. It just wasnt a good time.
Not a good time.
Those words felt so strange.
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 force them.
Three days went by.
Then my phone rang.
It was Oliver.
His voice sounded different.
Mum can we meet?
Why?
He hesitated for a moment.
Because something happened yesterday.
What was it?
The neighbours son asked me something.
He sighed.
He asked why his grandma always comes to see them, but my mum never comes to see me.
My heart tightened.
And what did you tell him?
Nothing I didnt know what to say.
Then he whispered:
I realised if I carry on like this, one day my own son will think its normal to close the door on his mother.
There was a quiet pause.
Mum will you come again?
I stared at my phone for a long time.
Then I said softly:
Will you open the door this time?
On the other end, I heard a simple answer.
Yes.
And sometimes, thats the hardest thing for a person to do.
To open the door.
What would you do if you were in my shoes?
