Visiting My Son in Detention

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Today, my husband and I visited our son at the detention center. I was a bundle of emotions, but I tried to stay composed for his sake.

The security checks were daunting – metal detectors, shoe removal, and wanding. But I was prepared with $5 in quarters for snacks. It had been over a month since I'd seen him, and I needed this visit.

He's changed. He's gained weight from daily noodles and chips, and needs a haircut and self-care. His skin is darker with bumps, and he has unexplained bruises. But what struck me most was his resilience.

As we held hands, he reassured me, "It's okay, Mommy." But it's not okay. He wants to come home. He shared that he now has a room to himself and appreciates two kind female officers.

I noticed two boys eyeing us menacingly, making Jay nervous. I wished I could shield him from it all.

Leaving my cane and wheelchair behind, I summoned every ounce of energy to make this visit count. No regrets.

As we parted ways, we shared a wave and a fleeting glance. Tonight or tomorrow, I'll await his call.

Despite the challenges, Jay's doing well. He's taking his meds, working on himself, and growing into a responsible young man. As his mother, I yearn to care for him and see him happy at home. Today's hugs and kiss will sustain me.