"Thanks for coming to pick me up mom," Roberto said, quietly.
"That's what moms are for," I stated, sarcastically. Disappointed.
He stood inside the front door. Stood there not knowing if I wanted to lecture him. Or what.
"Go to your room," I told him. "Go to bed."
I know I've been a good mom. Raised him the best I knew how. Going with my instincts, mostly. Taught him the importance of making wise decisions. Decisions that would make or break him.
Yet, there I was, wondering if maybe there was something I could have done differently.
No. I decided. I've been patient, forgiving, and above all else, understanding. Understanding the need to let Roberto make mistakes. To learn from them.
But this?
Cops were involved.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as the surprisingly calm parent-like officer explained he was going to let Roberto off.
This time.
I had nothing to say, just nodded my head. Slowly. Up. Then down.
Roberto watched me from his position. Leaning up against the beat-up red pickup. Lowered his head whenever I obviously looked his way.
"Before you leave, I need you to re-park the truck. In a little while the lot will begin to fill up. Cars will need to park. You will get a ticket if you leave it like that," the cop stated. The truck sat crisscrossing the diagonal parking lines.
The officer seemed concerned. For me? For Roberto? I'm not sure.
As I approached the pickup, I told hung-over Roberto to get in my car. I felt pissed.
But didn't show it.
Before I could move the truck, I had to clean up the trash Roberto let spill from the cab, onto the paved lot.
I grudgingly slump onto the driver's-side seat. Tried to start the truck. To move it correctly into one of the spaces.
Dead. Battery.
The officer walked over, helped me push it securely between the white park here lines.
Roberto slept most of the day, into the late afternoon.
I watched TV. My mind a mile away from the show's dialogue.
My thoughts were focused on a young boy trying to find his way.
Wondering how I could make it all better. Knowing it was really up to Roberto to figure out.
I knew I would continue to stay by his side. Look out for him. Let him know I care. Love him. Forever.
Upon my return from getting the used to be my favorite mode of transportation truck back home, Roberto approached me with a multitude of apologizes.
"I. Am. So. Sorry. Mom."
I couldn't look at him. He didn't look at me.
"I try so hard to be a good mom. I am focused and very open about anything, good or bad."
"I know. You are a good mom. You don't deserve this." He cried.
All I could do was nod. Tears in my eyes.
I know my son. Know he is a good person. A person trying to find himself. Roberto has had a bumpy road. His whole life.
A bumpy road in spite of the fact that he is the type of person you can depend on to be trustworthy. A confidant. Just simply happy. Always smiling. Dancing. Laughing. Someone who makes you feel good about who you are.
"I am concerned about you. About your behavior. It's not you. You are better than this," I tearfully squeezed out of my vocal cords.
Roberto hugged me. Told me he loved me. I hugged him back. Told him I loved him.
A thought floated around inside my head. I will conduct myself as I always do. With patience.
Later that evening Roberto, Brad, and I sat together on the couch, covered with blankets. Sharing a single ottoman. Watching Mars Needs Moms.
Perfect story line. Perfect timing.
Ah, parenting.
"That's what moms are for," I stated, sarcastically. Disappointed.
He stood inside the front door. Stood there not knowing if I wanted to lecture him. Or what.
"Go to your room," I told him. "Go to bed."
I know I've been a good mom. Raised him the best I knew how. Going with my instincts, mostly. Taught him the importance of making wise decisions. Decisions that would make or break him.
Yet, there I was, wondering if maybe there was something I could have done differently.
No. I decided. I've been patient, forgiving, and above all else, understanding. Understanding the need to let Roberto make mistakes. To learn from them.
But this?
Cops were involved.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as the surprisingly calm parent-like officer explained he was going to let Roberto off.
This time.
I had nothing to say, just nodded my head. Slowly. Up. Then down.
Roberto watched me from his position. Leaning up against the beat-up red pickup. Lowered his head whenever I obviously looked his way.
"Before you leave, I need you to re-park the truck. In a little while the lot will begin to fill up. Cars will need to park. You will get a ticket if you leave it like that," the cop stated. The truck sat crisscrossing the diagonal parking lines.
The officer seemed concerned. For me? For Roberto? I'm not sure.
As I approached the pickup, I told hung-over Roberto to get in my car. I felt pissed.
But didn't show it.
Before I could move the truck, I had to clean up the trash Roberto let spill from the cab, onto the paved lot.
I grudgingly slump onto the driver's-side seat. Tried to start the truck. To move it correctly into one of the spaces.
Dead. Battery.
The officer walked over, helped me push it securely between the white park here lines.
Roberto slept most of the day, into the late afternoon.
I watched TV. My mind a mile away from the show's dialogue.
My thoughts were focused on a young boy trying to find his way.
Wondering how I could make it all better. Knowing it was really up to Roberto to figure out.
I knew I would continue to stay by his side. Look out for him. Let him know I care. Love him. Forever.
Upon my return from getting the used to be my favorite mode of transportation truck back home, Roberto approached me with a multitude of apologizes.
"I. Am. So. Sorry. Mom."
I couldn't look at him. He didn't look at me.
"I try so hard to be a good mom. I am focused and very open about anything, good or bad."
"I know. You are a good mom. You don't deserve this." He cried.
All I could do was nod. Tears in my eyes.
I know my son. Know he is a good person. A person trying to find himself. Roberto has had a bumpy road. His whole life.
A bumpy road in spite of the fact that he is the type of person you can depend on to be trustworthy. A confidant. Just simply happy. Always smiling. Dancing. Laughing. Someone who makes you feel good about who you are.
"I am concerned about you. About your behavior. It's not you. You are better than this," I tearfully squeezed out of my vocal cords.
Roberto hugged me. Told me he loved me. I hugged him back. Told him I loved him.
A thought floated around inside my head. I will conduct myself as I always do. With patience.
Later that evening Roberto, Brad, and I sat together on the couch, covered with blankets. Sharing a single ottoman. Watching Mars Needs Moms.
Perfect story line. Perfect timing.
Ah, parenting.
I have a grown son so I know what it's like raising a boy. They are going to experiment despite our best efforts. I guess it is part of growing up. Luckily, I never had to deal with police, but I can just imagine how you must be feeling. Hang in there. It doesn't make him a bad kid at all. Things will get better. It sounds to me like you are a great mother.
ReplyDeleteThat Mickey Mouse ring I stole at Disneyland. Well, I was arrested by an officer who looked like Canon, remember him? Scared the billy-be-jesus out of me. What I remember ... how low I felt about my actions, how I disappointed my folks, how quickly they gathered me in. Life. :)
ReplyDeleteI think there was a reason I was not given children. i admire you parents!
ReplyDeleteWow, what a heartfelt post, & how well you dealt with the situation... Masses of admiration coming your way... Love your blog X
ReplyDeleteWow, my heart went out to you when I read this post...It must have been such a difficult situation to deal with, but it sounds like you dealt with it in the fairest way possible...
ReplyDeleteParenting is never easy...Just when you think you have it sorted out, along comes another challenge for you to overcome! Your son is very lucky to have such an understanding mum ~ and he sounds like a decent boy himself too...Hang in there!
Oh, I forgot to sat I have also given you a blog award :o) So if you stop by my page, you can see it, and 'collect' it for your blog if you like! (copy and paste) You write so well, I just wanted others to see your great blog too :o)
ReplyDeletei will say that i am fortunate that roberto is a very good person.. willing to see my side of things... he will, with all his might, adjust his being as best as he knows how to ensure a positive impact on life...
ReplyDelete