As I was browsing around PTO the other day, I realized that Iíve been a member for almost 8 years! I couldnít believe itís been that long so I decided to look back at some of my old threads/posts to see how much has changed. I came across this piece that I had found on the internet and that I had posted in September 2010. I hope it helps all the newer parents to see that not all is lost and that there is something good that can come out of this experience. And, yes, it still brings tears to my eyes!
I AM A PRISON MOTHER
( A True Story )
April 5, 2004
I am a Prison Mother. This is not something I chose for my life. This is a road that I am working my way down, because my son made poor choices in his life. Drugs became his best friend, and crime became his pastime. Now he will be living in a prison, until he has paid his debt to society. This is exactly where he needs to be. I would not change his life right now, even if I could. My son has made some serious mistakes. He knows this, and so do I. But, after he puts all of this behind him, he will be ready to step forward into the community to be the man God meant him to be.
This morning I am up very early. It is visiting day at the prison and I want to be in the line before it gets too long. I shower, dress, take time for a dry piece of toast and a cup of yesterday's coffee warmed over ... and, I'm out the door and on my way.
Where my son is incarcerated, it costs $7.00 to park your car. I pay my money, park the car and walk over to where the outside line is already wrapping around the corner of the outside waiting area. I go to the end of the line, and prepare to be patient. It is now 8:00 A.M. Some of the people at the head of the line have been here since last night. They have sleeping bags, blankets, sacks of food and sad faces. Some of these people I see over and over. They are there for a visit with their loved one each time I go. Sometimes we talk to each other. Sometimes we don't.
That's very good to read. Even for moms like me, whose son has been out over eight years, it brings back the feeling of going to see my son. A world that I never knew, but learned much about from his adventures.
It is a world that many know nothing of, yet many are in that world, and silently still being parents to the children they bore. With them through it all.
God bless us every one
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