The Second Burglary

Things were going well at college. My son was getting good grades and he seemed to be content. I visited as often as I could. He seemed to not have a lot of friends. He never talked of anyone and I never met any of his friends. As long as he was doing well in school, I didn’t worry too much about his social life. I probably should have been more in tuned. Well, a few months later after the first burglary, my son’s laptop, cell phone checkbook and textbooks were stolen. Apparently, while visiting one of his “friends”, they decided to all go out. When they came back, his stuff and some of their belongings were missing. The police was again called and a report was filed. When my son called me, he was terribly upset. I wished that I had listened to the agony in his voice. I told him that he needed to be more careful and that we would get yet another laptop. The next day my son called me and told me that he wanted to come home. He said that things weren’t working out and he wanted to come back to Alabama. He wanted to finish school back home. When I think of the sadness in his voice that I ignored, I begin to cry. When I think of the response I gave, I weep. He wanted to come home. He said mom, it is not working out here. I want to come home. As I write this, I am profusely crying because I let my son down. All I have to do is think about that conversation and I start to cry. I told my son that he needed to man up and take care of his belongings. I told him that he needed to finish what he started. I told him that we would get another laptop. My son has always listened to me. He never went against anything I told him. I wish that he had. He depended on me to make the right decisions for him. I let him down. He wanted to come home and I talked him out of it. What was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking. I was only thinking of all the money invested. I was only thinking of how many credits he would lose in the transfer. I was thinking about me. I wasn’t thinking about him. I wasn’t listening to him. I should have realized that something was wrong. I should have paid attention. I should have wondered why would he want to leave a school that he had dreamed about attending. I made a mistake. I made a terrible mistake in not listening to my son. I heard hi words but didn’t listen to what he was saying or listen to what he was not saying. I go over and over and over and over this in my head and I cannot find a valid reason for not letting him come home. I ‘ve had many sleepless nights about my influence in his decision to remain in Orlando. I have so many regrets. I didn’t realize that he was so unhappy. I guess I didn’t want to know. If I had been more observant, if I had been a better parent, I would have known. If I had paid more attention, then maybe what happened next would not have happened. Maybe he wouldn’t have “manned up” and made the decision that he made. Perhaps he wouldn’t have been influenced to own a gun. Just maybe things would have been different. Just maybe…


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