My son was a gifted professional, a devoted father, and a rock for our family. He got caught up in a web of lies and bad judgment, but what should have been a civil case became several felony convictions and an 8-year prison sentence. It felt like our lives were over! After six months in county and two months in prison reception, he was able to become an inmate firefighter and served reduced time in camps. He was paroled in late 2017. He has a job with overtime, a car, and a modest lifestyle (rents a room in a lady's house). He has been blessed! He is getting further education to change professions. Getting to visit his daughter has been a struggle. He gets lonely, but he finds fulfillment in work. He's been sick a lot (flu, strep, pleurisy), no doubt because he doesn't sleep enough (has had sleep issues since around the time of his arrest four years ago). It's a long road, even without drug or alcohol issues. He still needs our friendship and support. Post-release is, by definition, progress, and it has its own share of challenges. My son will never have his old life back, but he can build a new one. I Didn't knowingly sign up for this, but I'm grateful for God's blessings. M.I.S.S. has been one of those blessings from early days of shock and grief to today's slow walk to the finish line. I have learned that some of you carry unbelievably heavy burdens. You are in my prayers. You are amazing women!
I haven't been active on this site for a few months, but you are all in my heart. You are still in the fight, and I am trying to move on (hopefully forever). My son will not forget the experience he had being "in captivity," as he puts it. He feels super blessed with a normal life (even seeing his daughter weekly now), but everything is colored by where he was, what he saw, and what he felt. His perspective is unique. When he watches reports about the wildfires, he wishes he could be on a crew (not an inmate crew), fighting them. When he sees a story about something that happened in a prison, he explains it to me with an insider's understanding of the system. In some ways, he's less tolerant than he used to be. He doesn't shrink from responsibility for what happened. I'm no longer the mother of an incarcerated son, but I will always be the mother of a son who survived incarceration. Drugs and alcohol were never a factor in my son's life, nor was mental illness, but his own particular weaknesses were. We all have some weakness that, left unconquered, can lead us to dark places. My son hates to talk about (or think about) what his mistakes did to me. I don't speak often of it, either. It's done. If your son withdraws from you, it is probably because he can't bear to think of what he is putting you through. Remember, too, that God wouldn't send His precious children to us if we could ruin them that easily. This isn't your fault, and your child isn't the only one to stumble. Whether he is serving a year or a lifetime, God will get you through it, and He will work with you to get your child through it. God bless you, Moms and Dads.
The Lord brings us together. Thanks for sharing. I pray that prison helps my son becomes the man God made him to be. Looks like your son is doing that. Hugs
What a blessing. Thank you, for sharing as I see hope in the midst of the dark road ahead. I appreciate the glimmers of light from God through the various women/mothers as yourself who share their story and heart. New life is what Jesus Christ offers to every human being. It is nothing like the old life we had. I imagine that your son's new life will have many positives that he will grow to appreciate. Many blessings to you and him as you share the burden of life's ups and downs together. We all need one another no matter the road we travel.
Comments
I haven't been active on this site for a few months, but you are all in my heart. You are still in the fight, and I am trying to move on (hopefully forever). My son will not forget the experience he had being "in captivity," as he puts it. He feels super blessed with a normal life (even seeing his daughter weekly now), but everything is colored by where he was, what he saw, and what he felt. His perspective is unique. When he watches reports about the wildfires, he wishes he could be on a crew (not an inmate crew), fighting them. When he sees a story about something that happened in a prison, he explains it to me with an insider's understanding of the system. In some ways, he's less tolerant than he used to be. He doesn't shrink from responsibility for what happened. I'm no longer the mother of an incarcerated son, but I will always be the mother of a son who survived incarceration. Drugs and alcohol were never a factor in my son's life, nor was mental illness, but his own particular weaknesses were. We all have some weakness that, left unconquered, can lead us to dark places. My son hates to talk about (or think about) what his mistakes did to me. I don't speak often of it, either. It's done. If your son withdraws from you, it is probably because he can't bear to think of what he is putting you through. Remember, too, that God wouldn't send His precious children to us if we could ruin them that easily. This isn't your fault, and your child isn't the only one to stumble. Whether he is serving a year or a lifetime, God will get you through it, and He will work with you to get your child through it. God bless you, Moms and Dads.
The Lord brings us together. Thanks for sharing. I pray that prison helps my son becomes the man God made him to be. Looks like your son is doing that. Hugs
What a blessing. Thank you, for sharing as I see hope in the midst of the dark road ahead. I appreciate the glimmers of light from God through the various women/mothers as yourself who share their story and heart. New life is what Jesus Christ offers to every human being. It is nothing like the old life we had. I imagine that your son's new life will have many positives that he will grow to appreciate. Many blessings to you and him as you share the burden of life's ups and downs together. We all need one another no matter the road we travel.
Kinds regards,
Pammela