Tough Love…The Visit…Part 3…
Going to the PSB (Public Safety Building) to find out when we could visit, and what we could bring him. They gave us a list of times, and the type clothing he could have. White clothing, no colors, He could have a Bible, so the three of us went to Wal-Mart. We found it hard to find this type of clothing. We bought Long Johns, top and bottoms, a white sweat shirt, long white socks, boxer briefs, and t-shirts and a white stocking cap. We all pitched in to buy this stuff, we didn’t have much money but together we could do it.
We arrived at the PSB around 7 PM, Oh my people that were there. We stood in the line to check in, to see him, children screaming, thugs and bunch of strange looking people. We gave them the stuff for my son, and checked it in, and assured us he would get it tonight. We also put money on his books so he could get something if he needed it. After signing in we went to set in the lobby, to wait for his name to be called. People were coming in, left and right, standing around talking loudly, and I felt out of place. And it was getting late, and was beginning to wonder if we would see him. Just then his name was called. Getting on a very crowded elevator, we were stuffed in like sardines.
We stepped off the elevator and looked for him at one of the windows; he was standing in the back. He looked happy but sad to see us. His body language always told his story. We couldn’t figure out how to use the phone, to talk to him, and then we finally did. He wasn’t in his street clothes anymore, and just been allowed to take a shower. We tried to get some truths out of him; we encouraged him not to lie. He cried big sobbing tears, it had been awhile since I actually witnessed him cry. We told him we couldn’t get him out, He seemed okay with that. He smiled a few times and even laughed, and tried to make jokes. The sister that turned him in is the one he wanted to talk to the most. He also talked to the other sister that is always worried about him, kept telling him to not get in trouble in there because she knew his temper. Assuring him that we loved him and no one was mad at him, we just wished he would have taken care of this before he left to go visit relatives.
We tried to talk about his wife, the fines etc. He was never really one to talk about anything that bothered him, pulling information out of him one word at a time. He was really upset over his wife getting angry when he talked about her. We needed information and this wasn’t easy. Telling him he could get help there for his anger, or talk to someone about his problems, I was sure there were a lot of resources out there for him and he needed to take advantage of them.
As we were leaving, I looked back, there was a little lost puppy standing there, and it was my son. My heart and my feelings are being put to the test right now, but it is right by leaving him there. He has never been in this spot, caged, no being free to do as he wished. Just as hard as it on him it is on me, simply because this was my child.
Actually learning a long time ago, that my children had to live their own lives, couldn’t pick their mates, couldn’t be overbearing by telling them what to do. Praying, for my children to make the right choices, hoping they choose the paths in life. Learning from my mistakes along the way, helped shape me.
As we were leaving, we looked up; there he was standing behind the pathway, on the fourth floor waving to us. This was again hard on all of us, but it is up to him, to take some time to reflect, read his Bible, and makes some plans for his own future.
There is a part of my children’s life that I haven’t known yet, my father is still alive and well. With this part of their life gone, I am sure it is hard on them, especially my son; every boy needs a father, and father to be part of their life. He never really had this or the girls either. This could be my fault and seriously carry it with me every day. Moving away with my children, so far away from their father, to another state, they didn’t have a chance to get to know the real man. The man that didn’t claim them, the man whose cares was more important than theirs. Seriously never talked bad about their father, hoping someday he would change, but before he had a chance to he died. This left a major part of their lives missing.
My son acted out, with lies, and has tried to make people think he is something that he wasn’t. He painted awful pictures of his family including myself, his grandparents and sisters to other people in his life. After being removed from his wedding in July, all his family, not just me, we didn’t think we would hear from again for awhile. He burned a bridge with a lot of people, especially my brother. Then the phone rings and it was him, I asked why he hadn’t called, simple reply I couldn’t. The only real time he ever called was for money and this time wasn’t any different. No, I didn’t give him any, but he found away to another state anyway. Didn’t know he needed to go to court, until the police showed up with a warrant for
him at my house for him.
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