How Did We Get Here?

I have a 24 year old son, the youngest of five children, who sits in an LA County Jail waiting to find out when, where, how long, and if.  I guess, you could say, I am waiting, too.  Frankly, it makes me sick to my stomach every time I think about it.  I'm sick a lot. 

How did we get to this point?  How did he?  He was raised in the same family as the other four.  Each has found their way in the world as productive, and even extra-ordinary citizens.  My thoughts always go to, "what did I do wrong?"  "What didn't I do, or should have done differently?"

This mom, and many other moms as well, I presume, spend much of life beating ourselves up over the mistakes, sins, crimes, etc. of our children.  I don't ever take the credit for the good they do so why should I take the blame for their misdeeds.  I guess that's just the way it is.
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Back to "how did we get here?"  I have spent countless hours over the past 10+ years thinking about this.  He wasn't really that different as a young child, although he was a little difficult.  He was never violent, in fact gentle.  I could always count on him to tell the truth and he would never steal anything that belonged to someone else.  And he shared everything he had with others.  On Halloween night he gave his brother and sister "first picks" out of his Trick or Treat bag.  He was  always the peacemaker among fighting brothers and sister.  They adored him from the time he was born, and he got along with each individually and as a group better than any sibling in the family. He did have a mind of his own and was not concerned with strict obedience.  When it came to school he was kind of the square peg being squeezed into the round hole.

Andy had exceptional abilities, both mentally, physically, and creatively until Jr. High School.  He was still very honest, but curiosity about alcohol and drugs became his playground.  By the time he was 14 years old, smoking pot and drinking alcohol was not just a matter of curiosity, but they were illegal substances he enjoyed and saw nothing wrong with partaking.  He had already been arrested once for being too physical with a female classmate on the school bus., and he was suspended from school another time, I think.  It's all running together for me

The lying  and hiding the truth now began.  I was concerned, but not overly worried.  I just figured he would soon grow up and this would all be behind us.  School was a problem.  He didn't like it and he didn't put forth any effort to succeed.  Nothing could motivate him.  Not even sports.  Symptoms of a pothead.  Then right in the middle of this, his dad changed jobs and we moved to Los Angeles, California.