In my motherhood journey, like all parenting journeys,
there is a moment I am pained to speak about. I was merging onto the freeway,
taking my daughter to karate, when chunks of the sky started falling. That’s when the robocall call came
through the car’s Bluetooth from the King County Jail, then paused for my son’s
recorded voice speaking his name, then continued to inform me of the 800 number
I had to call to bank time with a private phone service so I could speak to my
incarcerated son the next time they allowed him to call.
That moment is a splinter I can’t grasp, It is like a canker sore that hurts
more when I press it with my tongue and yet I continue to press, to see if it
still hurts. It does. Then it fades, and I press again. Still
there.
The panic I felt, the complete lack of control, the
ensuing lessons I learned about the Seattle court system, my son and myself led
to, of all things, Grace. All
parenting concerns become meaningless after your son has been arrested, in
another state. Really the only
thing left to be concerned about are the parenting biggies: sickness and
death. When you let everything
else go, you get Grace.
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Wow, thanks for sharing this one. As the mother of a boy, it hits especially hard.
ReplyDeleteSome are more risk prone than others. That whole 'Fly below the radar' thing has taken a while for this one to grasp.
ReplyDeleteAllison, your posts make my heart drop. This one just as much as the toddler walking through a parking lot. I'm so glad you're writing and sharing.
ReplyDeleteThanks Janine. A to Z + kate = bootcamp. good for me!
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