It’s not the end of the world. But as parents who’ve already lived the consequences, we know it’s one step closer to something worse.
Our son is almost 19. Standing at the edge of adulthood, playing with choices that could change everything. Choices we understand too well. My husband and I both did time. We’ve heard the doors lock behind us. We’ve lived the consequences—the freezing intake room, shackles digging into our ankle bones, leaving bruises with every step, walking down endless, sterile hallways. The freezing cold, stainless-steel benches, the air thick with the smell of sweat, fabuloso, and something stale that never quite goes away. The guards, their eyes void of warmth, watching with barely concealed disgust. The food, barely edible, maybe a sandwich and off brand cookies. The issued underwear, stretched and worn by strangers before us, the absence of anything personal—until you find something, anything, a string on the floor, a bread tie, and cling to it because in that place, even the smallest possession means you have something of your own.
The last thing we ever wanted was for him to follow in our footsteps.
But the hardest part of parenting? Knowing what’s ahead and not being able to stop it.
You can warn them, guide them, beg them to listen. But at the end of the day, they make their own choices. And as a parent, that’s terrifying. Because when you’ve already lived it, you don’t just see the mistake—they do. You see the next five years. The courtroom. The judge. The regret. The “I should have listened.”
That’s what makes it maddening. Not the rebellion. Not the stubbornness. The helplessness.
Still, my husband is on his way, traveling halfway across the country to talk to him face to face. Because even if he won’t listen, he’ll know we showed up. And sometimes, that’s all you can do—stand in the wreckage before it happens and pray they hit the brakes before it’s too late.
📖 “The father of a righteous child has great joy; a man who fathers a wise son rejoices in him.” – Proverbs 23:24
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