Sitting here listening to the clock tick. Literally. There is complete and utter silence in the room where my husband and I sit. Why? Because both of us have thoughts racing through our minds of how we got here and what lies ahead.
In an hour we will attend an arraignment for our son. Our middle child. A kid that could be anything he wants. Handsome, intelligent, hard working, likable. That is how most people used to describe him, the ones who do not know his current situation still do. It is heart wrenching to know how quickly life can change. How fast reality can feel like living in a nightmare.
One week ago today my son was arrested. The image of his face on the County Bookings will be forever tattooed in my mind. I have spent time looking at the photo searching his eyes and trying to see what he is thinking. Searching for a glimmer of who he once was and who I know he can become. Searching his face for hope for a brighter future. All I find as I search the photo is someone I no longer know.
Mothers have nightmares about many different scenarios for their children, this is certainly one of those. No one wants their child to suffer. When you give birth to a child and hold that infant in your arms you know at that exact moment you would give anything for them. Even your own life.
You raise them doing the best you know how. Teach them right from wrong. Pray for them. Laugh with them Cry with them. Cry FOR them. Worry about them. Protect them. Feed them. Bathe them. Wipe their bottoms. Wipe their noses. Wipe their tears. You give up worrying about yourself and you give all you have to them. You never ever in your wildest dreams think that your child will become a victim of addiction. But, my son did, and those choices led him to where we are today.
I've gone over and over in my mind about what I could have done better as a parent. The coulda, shoulda, woulda's will eat you alive if you let them. I know that I can't go back and change anything in the past. All I can do is deal with the here and now in the best way I know how. Right now I feel as though I have no answers. I feel sad. I feel angry. I feel broken. I feel lost.
How do you help someone who feels they need no help? How do you help someone who tells you they hate you and they want to be left alone? How are you there for them even when they don't want you to be?
The drive over to the arraignment was as quiet as the hours we sat this morning waiting to go. We arrived to see our son dressed in a shirt and tie. The last time I saw him dressed this way was standing at the pulpit of our church talking about the changes he had made in his life and how those changes had made it possible for him to want to go and serve a mission for his Savior. He was prepared to give two years of his life to serve the Lord. Now here he is sitting in the waiting room of the court house waiting to stand before a judge. From missionary to felon in less than 18 months. How did we get here?
My son is not happy to see us. He doesn't want us there. He is angry at us and blames us for the fact that he is there at all. He does not see that it is his own choices that led him here, but instead finds ways to blame others for his situation. I have taken the brunt of his blame. Words have a way of cutting like a knife and their venom can haunt you in your every thought. Some of his words still ring in my head as I see him sitting on the bench waiting for his turn before the judge. He won't even look at me. I honestly cannot remember the last time he looked me in the eyes. I miss those blue eyes. I miss my son.
Sometimes I shake my head because I cannot believe the parallels in my life. I have been here before and I never wanted to repeat it again. I have watched two of my brothers go down this same path. As a teenager I lived through multiple suicide attempts from one brother and various addictions with another. Twenty years ago I sat in this same heart wrenching place watching my little brother stand before a judge for choices he had made. Now here I am with my own son feeling emotions from the past and present collide. Why should anyone have to go through this once, let alone twice in a lifetime?
When the time arrives for us to go in to the courtroom, as we stand up, my son mumbles that he doesn't even want us to go in there with him. Whether he wants us to or not, we will be there. We will never give up on him, even if he has given up on himself.
We go in the courtroom and sit down, our son chooses a bench behind us. He won't sit with us, talk to us, or look at us. As I sit there I feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I don't want to cry. I have cried so many times the past year and half, more times than I can count. You would think that I would run out of tears at some point, but I don't. My heart has been broken into a million pieces and every time I think it can't possible be broken again, those pieces break into a million more.
More than anything, I just want my son to be happy. I want to take his pain from him, but I can't. Choices have consequences. We can choose our choices, but we cannot choose our consequences. Our consequences have to be paid by us. No one can take those away from us, no matter how much they want to.
With the slam of a gavel the court date is set. Now we wait for two months for our next visit to the courtroom. I don't know what the next two months will bring. I just know we have a long journey ahead of us and one I pray can somehow, someway have a happy ending.
