The smallest of comforts

When I started this blog, it was truly meant to help other families and perhaps other children.  And oh yes, somewhere along the way, it became great comfort for me.


But my comforted was never my intent.  Truly, it has been to help other families.  I have had several woman call me, email me privately, sit on my porch or just write me to get their "load off."  And I do think that this blog has made a difference.

In the last few weeks, several things have happened.  I have gained strength that I didn't know possible.  And, I have had a few people say some crazy things to me.  "You make me uncomfortable when you refer to the button, like, when the button played baseball...."  I looked at my friend and said, "he's not dead."  He is still my son. 

And there was this comment made about 50 times, "I would really like to just beat the hell out of him."  Okay, if punches get to be thrown, I am pretty sure that Franklin and I get the first swing.  "I am just so mad at him."  These are the comments that have been made to us and we understand.

Long gone are the questions, "what is his address, can I write?"  The support has left the room.  And I get it,  I totally understand.  Totally.

But yet, we are still the "elephant" in the room.  I still hear the whispers and people grab my hand and tilt their heads and say, How are you?"  It cracks me up.  I so appreciate the support but I am not the first person to have a "troubled" child.  I don't spend my days in the hospital or a physical therapy center and as much as I loathe summer camp, I can see my child without tubes in his mouth.

But still, after 7 arrests in 14 months, it appears it is a lost cause. Understandably.

On Friday night, I was driving Walker and his bff in the car.  Walker pulls out the "button's" knife that he made during his wilderness trip.  Hmmmm, this was not a good thing.  And I said the "button's" name and how in the scheme of things, you should not touch something that doesn not belong to you, let alone take it for the weekend.

The little 10  year old beside me, looked up, as genuine as could be with his enormous brown eyes and asked, "so how is the button?"  No elelphant in the room, no tilt of the head, just a straight out genuine question.

"Well, he's fine as he can be."

"Good, do you get to talk to him or see him?"  I kept my eyes on the road as much as I wanted to look in the rear view to see the look on Walker's face, but I kept my eyes straight away.

"I can see him on his visiting day and he does write, in fact, we got a letter today."

"Really, what did it say?"

"Well, he said to Walker and Addie that they should learn from him.  Don't ever drink or try drugs, it isn't worth it.  Nothing good will come out of it and it is not worth it.  Learn from him."

"Well that is good" said the 10 year old who is wise beyond his years.  And then he tells me this, "my dad just picked for jury duty and I was glad because now he can be in the courtroom with the button and he can help his case."

I love young innocence. 

I laughed and told him, "it doesn't work that way but thanks."

"Well, when you see him next time, tell him I am routing for him."

Seriously, my heart grew as big as the earth at that moment.  And I wanted to look at my son and see his face after hearing that from his bff but I wanted Walker to have that peace all to himself. 

And, as young and innocent as that little guy is, he gave me great comfort.  And a smile.