Letter to the editor

Editor’s note: A story in the Oct. 9 Star told of a missing 14-year-old boy and his grandmother’s efforts to bring him home. This letter is her message to him.

10/14/2019

Javante,

To prevent you from being preyed upon by pseudo family or friends, I’m doing the hardest thing in the world, as tears run down my cheek, and that is publicly announcing that I will surrender custody over to both of your biological parents to let the three of you determine where you will live, and solidify it through court. Come back and we will call your parents, or you can bring either one to the house to get your new chapter started.

My heart has felt as though it had bled for the last two to three weeks. An intense non-stop pain that is indescribable. Water has leaked continuously from my eyes many times. The pain was turning me into someone that I don’t want to be, so I have reached deep down in my soul so I could understand you. As my girl would say, “The heart wants what it wants.” Therefore, it’s time… I need to let my butterfly free. I know that 14 years of age seems young to let go, but you have far exceeded normal standards all your life.

When 2 years old, you ordered me to prove that I knew you after your return by the police from being hidden by the same initial perpetrator as this time. At age 4, you described addiction as the flower in the Percy Jackson movie. At 10, you aced the ABC car game with “Xander the horse.” You were top reader in your Kindergarten class in Alaska. While root digging when you were 4 years old, I commented to another that you never been root digging, don’t know what they are and are just there to play; and less than five minutes later, you proved me wrong. At a winter dance, you told me, “Why do they have it so late at night, they know I can’t stay up all night.” You obtained a regional time the first time you swam in a swim meet. You packed three kids on your back for 10 yards on the football field. You surfed in Maui. You hockey stopped on one foot without the other foot touching the ground. You hit home run after home run. You split an arrow in half. You skydived indoors. You have been to Disneyland, Legoland, Sea World, and many other amusement and water parks that crossed our paths. You demanded to sit alone on many airplane trips, flew first class, and even sat in the cockpit after 911 and spoke over the plane’s loudspeaker. You hiked miles and miles of National Parks. You rode on a ship to Alaska. You rode the Wilderness Express Dome Train to Denali. We watched a bear eat the heads of many salmon and saw whales on a tourist adventure. You won the Boy Scout’s Pine Derby race and got a speeding ticket for exceeding 100 miles per hour on the track. You rode a hot air balloon. You never missed your free-throws, so your first coach made your team run every time you made the basket while it was the opposite for everyone else. You have been in 16 states. You have been at an NBA game. You skied black diamonds, and you flew a plane.

You know me better than anyone in the world, so much that sometimes you even shared stuff with others that you shouldn’t have. I would move the world for you, but it’s time for me to step aside and let you make the world what you want. Great job on getting straight A’s before this last train wreck! So get back to school and stop hiding! Hopefully, you’re not still hiding, because a couple months ago I beat you at hide and seek.

Remember to implement ethical and moral values that are instilled within you and don’t be tempted to numb yourself and destroy your opportunity to grow more. Don’t forget to turn your cheek to those Lanes out there and focus on what’s best for yourself.

Love you always, and don’t forget you promised to dance with me on my birthdays like you used to, but you won’t need a chair anymore, rather I might.

I believe in you…

Cathy A. Covington