were always missteps and the occasional breakdown, but for most of their childhood I felt like I was doing a good job.
I always tried to instill them with a good, solid set of values. My husband and I taught them right from wrong, to respect people, and to be helpful to others. We taught them that education was important, and that doing the right thing wasn't always the easiest choice, but would be the best choice. When they saw other kids their age doing things we didn't allow, or being given gifts at every turn, I'm sure they they thought we were just mean parents. We tried to explain that you should work for the things you want, in order to appreciate them, that money doesn't grow on trees and that just because you ask for something, doesn't mean you should automatically get it.
The teenage years presented so many challenges. There were many nights I went to bed worrying if I was doing everything I could to make sure my children grew up to be good people. My son started acting out at about 15. It seemed to be a constant battle with him. Like all teenagers he thought he knew everything, and that he should be allowed to run, and go, and do whatever he wanted. It seemed like a constant battle. We always seemed to have to be so much harder on him than our daughter. He felt we favored her. My daughter got good grades, is honest, was involved in sports, and, with the exception of cleaning her room, usually did what she was told. My son on the other hand, although being very smart and having a huge heart, received bad grades, and was constantly in detention. We received numerous calls from school about fighting, and he even lit up a cigarette in class. He was never where he claimed to be when out with friends, and started smoking pot. We tried everything we could think of.
When he turned sixteen we bought him a car. Two weeks later he blew up then engine smoking tires in a parking lot. He was working at the time, so we went out the same day and bought him another car so that he could get back and forth to work. One night he became angry because I was making him stay home. It was like WWIII in our house that night. He even balled up his fist like he wanted to hit me. Then he walked out the front door. You have no idea how horrible that feeling is, watching your child walk away from you, not know if they are coming back.
He didn't. He started hanging out with some people we didn't approve of. We tried to get him to come back home. We called the police, trying to make him come home, but were told, although they could go get him and bring him home, he would probably leave again, and there was nothing they could do to make him stay home, because at 16 he could pretty much do what he wanted. We couldn't even keep him from dropping out of school. He just kept spiraling out of control. The harder we tried to get him back to us, the further away from us he ran.
That was ten years ago. Now he is on his third prison sentence. There were spans of time when he did really well. He even married a great girl. They split up before she knew she was pregnant. Now he has a son he has never met. I understand why his mother keeps him away from my son. He didn't try to see him, he was strung out on drugs, getting into trouble. He left his wife for another girl. Shortly after his first son was born, this new girl, whom he had know since grade school, ended up pregnant. My son was actually doing halfway decent at this time, but shortly after his second son was born he started doing drugs again. When my grandson was three months old my son and his girlfriend were arrested because my son was cooking meth in their apartment. We took custody of the baby and raised him for two years.
I just can't figure out what I did wrong. What did I do that caused my son to do these things and spiral out of control? Was it really something I did, or was it just something deep down in him, something in his nature that I could not do anything about? How do I deal with the guilt? I've been dealing with for the last 10 years and I've finally come to some realizations. I gave my children a solid upbringing. They were taught the evils of drugs and taught the difference between right and wrong. He was raised around good people, and taught the value of hard work. The decisions he made were choices he made on his own. He ignored what he was taught. He consciously made decisions, knowing what the consequences would be. He did this, not me. I did not put him in the situation he is in right now. Those decisions have cost him a lot, and deprived both of his sons a father. Those are consequences he will have to live with.
I will always feel guilty, and always wonder in the back of my mind what I could have done differently. I will always love my son, despite his actions. But I'm finally starting to come to terms with the fact that my son chose his path. He had all the tools to make the right decision, and HE chose not to.
I know there are so many other parents out there feeling the same way, and I hope that one day they can find a little bit of peace, knowing that all we can do is provide our children with the tools they need to succeed in life. It is up to them to choose whether or not to use them.
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