A Memoir of A Single Mom to Her Son
21 Aug 2011 Leave a Comment
June 25, 1989, he was here. Weighing in at 6 lb 7 oz and 21 inches long. He was beautiful (yes, a beautiful baby boy) with jet black, wavy hair, and beautiful eyes. I loved him before he was born and once he was here, my love had multiplied times 1000. I was 19 and there was no more “Just Geri”, but “Mommy & JJ” or “JJ & Mommy”; depending on which one of us said it first.
When he was about two weeks old, my great uncle told me to “Anoint his head with oil and recite the 23 Psalm”. He told me that this would “protect him from evil spirits”. I didn’t understand it then, but I knew that I didn’t want anything, spirits, or anyone to harm my child. So, I was obedient and did what I was told.
Being a single mom, I did my best to instill in him all the values that a mom could to her son. Keep God first, be true to yourself, treat others how you want to be treated, respect your elders. Never let anyone harm your sister. There were some things that I could not teach my son, but I’d always caution him about the perils of life, and how growing up without the steady presence of his father (who was incarcerated), would be a barrier for him. I wanted to prepare him for the realities of life. I never allowed anyone to call him “The Man of the House” and referred to him as the “Boy in the Home”. He wasn’t old enough to take on the challenges that men faced being the head of the house and because of my chosen lifestyle (being a single parent), I decided that making him grow up too soon would rob him of his childhood. Who was I to begrudge him of that?
At 17, his father was “home” and he was inlove. He wanted to live with his father and began spending more and more time with his girlfriend. I felt as though, I had given him the resources within my scope; I could not teach him how to be a man, and allowed my son the opportunity to live with his father. I was still present in his daily life. Somewhere there was another alteration, and he made a decision to stop going to school. We enrolled into a “fast-track” program for school, but he did not do well in that program and stopped attending. At 19, he realized the importance of obtaining an education, because it was impossible to obtain respectful employment without a high school diploma, and made an effort to enroll and attend the Drop Back In Program. He also followed in my footsteps and became a teenage parent. The program was working well initially, but the coursework became overwhelming and not being able to tackle Chemistry and facing a deadline because he was reaching 21 and fearing that he would be dropped from the program, he left it.
He has chosen a lifestyle completely different from the life that I thought I was engendering him for. Instead he has opted for a lifestyle of “hustling”. I continued to pray for him, remembering the covering that was placed upon his life at two weeks. I’d cautioned him and continued to encourage him. In May, he was arrested for possession of marijuana. My mother bailed him out of jail for $1000. Instead of going to court and being sentenced, he was eligible to enter a prevention program where he was required to do community service hours and meet with his probabion officer monthly. In June on his birthday, a warrant was issued for failure to pay a ticket. His $280 fine was paid and he was released. Again, another lecture about choices and decisions given.
On Thursday, August 18th, I called him on my way home from work. We discussed routinely things between a mother and son. I was telling him to contact his grandfather and to call his great-grandmother. Said our “I love yous” and goodbye. Twenty minutes later, my daughter telephoned me and told me that my son had been arrested in a drug bust. Another charge: Sale and Delivery. Bond set at $10,002. The only message that he sent to me was, do not bond him out. A wave of emotions overtook me. “Was I not a good mother?” “Could I have been a better provider?” and the ultimate question, “Did I fail him as a mother?” My mom told me that, “Sometimes different roads are traveled before the right one is taken..just remain on the right road so we are there when they finally arrive.” Immediately, I remembered the covering and began to pray for my son again. Let’s be honest, I’ve never stopped praying for him!
Right now, I’m not sure what his outcome will be, but there are three things that I’m certain of: #1) My love for him is immensely! #2) He is covered by the blood of Jesus Christ! #3) I will never stop believing in him!
