I go to sleep and imagine that you’re there with me

I know the Pretenders did that one as a love song, but Hell, I love my son. You know?

Tonight, my oldest son is not here at home. He’s the reason I started this journal; he has evoked these emotions that are eating away at me now. He isn’t here and won’t be back for 60 days. He’s in jail.

Chris is very good-looking. Too handsome for his own good. But he’s also prone to make bad choices. I’m told that bailing him out of trouble, always coming to his defense, picking him up every time he falls and being his crutch will do him more harm than good. This time, it’s out of my hands and I’ve never felt so alone. I can’t rescue him from this one.

I know that we parents seem to hound our kids constantly about every little thing. We seem to be control freaks at times, almost trying to crawl into your skin to live your lives for you. But that isn’t it. It’s just that, believe it or not, we’ve been where you are. We walked through the nightmare of adolescence and miraculously survived. We know the dangers because we lived them. We know, too, that many of our friends didn’t survive. We know that it was nothing more than pure luck that we got to adulthood and we worry that you won’t be as lucky.

When I walked away from my son today at the jail, I felt like my whole world had imploded. He’s a big strong guy, but there were tears in his eyes. When he hugged me, I thought that he’d crush my ribs. He lifted me off the ground and said, “I’m scared. I’m sorry.” I wanted to take him by the hand and lead him to the car like I did when he was two. I couldn’t do that now.

I whispered in his ear that when he needs to make a choice, ask himself what mom would do. He smiled then and said, “Okay. ‘Cause you always tell me right.” I wanted to scream, “WHY DIDN’T YOU THINK OF THAT BEFORE????”

So, tonight, I’ll close my eyes and imagine that he’s here with all of us. I’ll pretend that he’s munching on the leftover pizza downstairs with his girlfriend. Tomorrow, I’ll tell myself that he’s at work with his dad. I’ll get through each minute of the next 60 days by pretending that things are normal. And I’ll pray with all my heart that nothing like this ever happens to any of my kids again. My heart couldn’t take it.

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