IN GOD'S CARE...

Over the past several months our son has been told they were going to move him back to California.  We all felt concern because he has been doing so well at LPCC.  He has finished two semesters of college courses, and in the middle of five classes in the third semester.  He has decided that he loves learning, and has set a goal to attend Law School.  Watching the news is his favorite past time, coming to the conclusion that he leans towards being an ultra conservative.  

Andy said that when he was told again that they were going to transfer him to California he prayed, asking God, if possible, that he might know why.  The next day on two separate conversations with guards and inmates he was told that transfers back to California, where he was convicted, usually means early release.  Of course he was very excited about this possibility, but trying not to get his hopes up.

We have been able to visit him every week for the past two plus years.  Good visits, happy visits, interesting visits.  On Tuesday this week, he called and said he was leaving that day.  I got a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes.  I will miss seeing him.  But when I first heard a few months ago that he was probably leaving I couldn't help but think it was my Father in heaven's doing because He sent him to Arizona so we could love and nurture him even though he was in prison, so why not trust in Him and have faith in Him that Andy is being sent to California for an equally important purpose.  I believe that purpose is for Andy to be on his own without his parents nearby, to prove to himself that he can do this, that he can be strong, that he can make it in life.  Andy has not thought so for a long time.  But because of how successful he has been in his present environment for a long time, I think he's ready as long as he continues to call upon God for strength and for help.  He is in God's care.  

Live Volcano

This is a living volcano on the Big Island of Hawaii;  it is forever changing its course, sometimes menacing and sometimes quiet.  The first time I saw Kilauea the lava was flowing into the ocean causing mountainous plumes of steam.  It was beautiful.  We viewed this from the acres of hardened black lava beds that destroyed everything that lay in its path.  There is beauty, but how utterly frightening if my family, my friends, my loved ones were in the way of the moving, red hot devastating lava. 

Nature is a great teacher.  I'm sad to say that sometimes we humans aren't good learners.  We continue to stand in the pathway of the elements of destruction.  Why can't we just be satisfied with being spectators instead of participants of harmful substances?  And this can be anything that keeps our spirit from soaring and reaching the heavens, and likewise that keeps the spirit of Heaven from penetrating our souls. 

These musings are not directed towards Andy or anyone else in particular, they are just thoughts from an observer, and someone who has stood in the pathway of moving lava.

Andy is doing well.  He just took midterms in the two college classes he's taking, biology and Political Science!  The love of learning has struck!  We are able to discuss much more these days, especially how well his mind is working.  I would say, right now, Andy is seeking a pathway of construction,not destruction.      

 

I was shocked to see that my first post in this blog, "Childreninprison.blogspot.com, was two years and four months ago.  Andy still sits in a prison cell only 45 minutes from us, and we continue to visit him once a week.  For me, this is a huge blessing.  

We just got back from visiting him today, for only 25 minutes.  We got there two hours before, but because of "inmate count" where they have to be in their cells, he couldn't be brought to the visitor's room for however long.  It is so frustrating to be at the mercy of the prison protocol.  Oh, well, I used the time to think about what yard  work I need to do over the next few spring/summer like days.  Good use of my time I guess.

What is sad for me is that I have trouble thinking of my son in any other environment besides prison.  Am I just protecting myself from disappointment, frustration, whatever?  Or is it because, "it is what it is" and I can't do anything about it.  I have been reading a lot lately in my Sunday School lessons and in the scriptures that we must be of "good cheer," "be glad," "be joyful."  I try, I really do.  And most days I succeed.

I project to the future and wonder what he will make of his life after prison?  Really, there is no answer for me because only Andy can determine that.  I am learning how to stop trying to be in control.  As they say in AA "Let Go, Let God!"

Light

Andy's dad and I continue to visit him every week, usually on Sunday afternoon.  We spend a lot of the time laughing and just enjoying the visit.  When we run low on things to talk about we play scrabble.  We're good at three and four letter words!  

Whenever I'm asked about my family, like "tell me about your kids," I hesitate just a little to share that our youngest son is in prison.  I'm not sure how some will react.  Truthfully, I don't really care if this information is met with a negative reaction by others.  It is what it is, and Andy is my son, flesh of my flesh.  And I know he is a child of God and is loved by Him.  I also know that the atonement covers his sins and my sins when we repent. It is a light that warms the earth and my soul.

Normal Life

Even though I have a son who will be in prison for quite a few years, life is fairly normal for me.  I don't cringe when I think about where he is, nor do I hide the fact.  I believe it's because I have been strengthened so the burdens placed upon my shoulders are light, and sometimes I can't even feel them.

I need to share a funny story:  we have to pass through a security checkpoint before entering the prison.  If the buzzer goes off, we can't go in.  I have learned some tricks (the guards taught me) to turn sideways so the under wire in my bra won't set it off.  Usually works.  Last week the buzzer kept buzzing as I walked through.  The guard said it was around my waist.  I was wearing a skirt with a metal zipper.  She said, "I'm sorry but unless that buzzer stops you won't be able to see your son, and we can not pat you down."  I didn't bring any extra clothes, because who does that?  So I took my skirt off, and walked through the security gate in my slip!  The buzzer didn't go off.  The guard said, "uh, we normally don't let people do that."  I laughed and said, "well, I guess your abnormal is my normal."   Not sure I'll be able to get away with that again.  I'll put a pair of sweat pants in the car!     

THE GOODNESS OF GOD

Since the last debacle of a visit we have been able to see, hug, and talk to Andy each weekend.  I am grateful and I should have shown my gratitude by posting before this.  Our visits are always so good.  We laugh, I listen, and I observe.  When the kids were growing up and I was deep into my job of mothering, if they said something I didn't agree with or I had concerns about, I would make a judgement, jump right in and give my opinion.  Maybe it's because they are grown up or more mature, but I just try to listen these days.  I've noticed that Andy is more willing to share when I nod my head, say "uh huh," or "oh."  And he has been sharing a lot.  He is definitely accepting responsibility for his actions, does not blame someone else, and is even accepting the terms of his sentencing.  He says he doesn't argue with other inmates, and not because he might get beat up, but because it doesn't do any good.  Other people can think what they want.  This is a huge step for my youngest son.

I know his life was saved by his arrest two years ago.  I know the amount of time he will spend locked up is for his good.  I know all of this has been orchestrated or arranged by a very loving and kind Father in heaven.  And not just because He loves Anders, but because He loves me.  I have been given assurances of His love.  Andy is only 40 minutes from our home.  He's feels great sorrow for what he did to his family.  He is adjusting and being safe in this circumstance.  

I love my son.  I do not doubt the goodness of God.        

Walking In Faith

Yesterday we went back up to Eloy to see Andy with the thought that we would visit from 1-3:30 because a few weeks ago I had signed up for the missionaries to eat dinner with us, not knowing Saturday is the day we would visit with our son.  We sat down at our table at 1:30.  There were many girlfriends, wives, friends and families to visit their loved ones.  We watched guys come in and sit down with those who had come to visit them.  A half hour passed and there were maybe three visitors, including us, left waiting for the door to open bringing who we had been waiting for.  Another half hour and no Andy.  His dad approached the guards and asked why our son hadn't been brought up.  "Oh, he's somewhere.  We can't find him, uh, maybe he's on recreation or something,  we're working on it."  I had lost my happy face by this time.  Another half hour passed and I had had it. I jumped up, walked over to the desk and asked again why our son hadn't come up and explained we had to leave at 3:30 (half hour from when I asked).  "Uh, well, sometimes this just happens, they're somewhere but we can't locate them, and we can't help it, and uh, you just never know when this will happen."  I went back and sat down.  In another 10-15 minutes or so Andy appeared after having been stripped search on his way into the room; standard humiliating procedure.  We asked him where he had been?  He had told us last week that Saturday afternoon is when he can go out into the yard (outside) to run and exercise.  We thought he must have been doing that and frankly I was a little miffed at his rudeness.  When he sat down he said he hadn't been in the yard that he was in his cell the whole time.  The guards had just told him he had visitors.  I was so totally angry that they feel like it's ok to mess with people, to yank their chain.  I'm still a little mad.  We did extend our visit another half hour, until 4, and it worked out ok to get home in time to finish dinner, BUT our visit was cut short and probably not as relaxed as it could have been.

What makes me more sad than angry about this whole experience is some things he shared with us about himself during the visit.  It's hitting him how long he will be locked up.  Worst case scenario release date is 2022.  Best case is 2017.  He'll either be back into society in 5 years or 7 years.  Man, that's a long time.  He is realizing that he will be 30 years old.  Let's see that's about 15 years of his life gone, wasted, from the time he made the decision to use drugs and to do whatever it took to get that life sucking substance to walking back out into the fresh air, hopefully a free man.  He believes all his hopes, dreams, and aspirations are never to be had.  We did what all good parents would try to do, minimize the pain, and try to give encouragement, sharing with him that you find new dreams, new hopes, new aspirations.  I think it might have fell on deaf ears.  Maybe what he's feeling is what he should be feeling, but to be defeated for the next 7 years?  I wouldn't want that.  I've been sad for him.  Another walk in faith, right?  And that's where I am, not able to do anything, but pray for him to be given strength, courage, and to submit cheerfully to the will of the Lord, then his burdens will be made light, even so that he cannot feel them upon his back.  I'm praying for myself, too.       

There's Beauty Even in Cactus!

I love this barrel cactus with many cacti growing on top of each other.  There's beauty in its uniqueness.  Andy is unique.  

We tried again to visit Andy on Saturday fully expecting something to go wrong.  We showed our ID cards, loaded the security conveyer belt with our watches, glasses, shoes, keys, etc.  The guard looked at mine and said, "I'm sorry but sandals aren't allowed inside.  You have to wear shoes with a back on them."  What?  Where did it say that?  Well, lucky for her (and for me) I had a pair of dress shoes in the car!  I hurried out to the car, put on heels with my jeans, and made it through the outer area.  Another guard who looks like Charles Barkley took us through two locked gates on the fences surrounding the prison.  A ton of barbed wire was twisted along the top of the fences as well as electric wires all around.  I must admit it was a little disconcerting.  We were then taken into a room with several tables and 4 chairs around the tables.  After waiting about 10 minutes our son walked into the room.  I hadn't seen him face to face except from a distance in court for nearly 2 1/2 years.  We hugged each other tightly and held on.  Let me clarify, I held on!  

He looks lean, clean, and peaceful.  His complexion is the best I've ever seen it.  We visited with him for about 4 hours.  I'm not sure there was ever any silent time.  He talked, and talked, and talked.  I just tried to listen to him and get to know him once again.  That's when I realized he is a unique individual and as I look back on his life, he's always been that way.  He seems to think a little differently, and he does think deeply about life.  I realized that I just need to accept who he is, not his behavior, of course, but his individuality.  

There was another big hug when we parted; what joy to spend some time with him.  And although it is difficult to visit him, my son in prison, I feel peace and comfort.  And that's a beautiful thing!

The Long, Lonely Road

We have been waiting to visit Andy for three weeks, and to see if he was staying in the Eloy facility.  We got a letter from him last week so he's still there.  Whenever an inmate is transferred to a new facility there is a waiting period of two weeks before they can have visitors.  It's been over two weeks.  We drove up to Eloy expecting to see him today.  The first thing we heard when we walked in the door was the prison being in shut-down mode, but not the section Andy is in.  We showed our ID, then the clerk says to me, "you're not cleared to visit."  Well, we checked that before coming and was told I did have clearance. Oh, well, at least one of us was going to visit with him.  The clerk told his dad to take off his glasses, watch, shoes, belt, his keys, and give me the change he had in his pockets.  We had been there about 45 minutes by this time.  His dad goes through the metal detector, sits in a chair waiting to be escorted to the visitor's center.  Fifteen minutes passes and the clerk receives a phone call saying Andy was still on intake status and couldn't have visitors.  Grrrrrr!  

We must choose well what  we do because the consequences of our actions is a long, lonely road indeed.

Justice and Mercy

 

Once upon a time there was a young horse by the name of Morgan Morning.  He was a beautiful little horse with a shiny coat of dark hair.  Morgan love his mother, but he wanted to see what the world was like away from the safety of her voice.  She would often have to go looking for him and encourage him to come home.  One day Morgan noticed a curious little animal scurrying through the woods.  Morgan remembered his mother telling him he was not to wonder far, but this little creature was calling to him.  So Morgan followed.  The furry little grey and white animal with rings around his eyes jumped across the stream, hitting the well placed rocks with his feet.  Morgan tried, but he fell into the water.  The water began to carry him down toward  a very loud noise.  Morgan then saw the waterfall.  He tried to paddle upstream, but the current was too strong.  Morgan went down, down, down the raging waters into the pool at the very bottom.  He sputtered as he came up to the top and reluctantly made his way to the sand at the side the pool. His leg was hurt badly.

The curious little raccoon saw this happen, and ran to tell Morgan's mother in the meadow.  She galloped to the cliff overlooking the pool.  There was Morgan at the bottom.  Morgan's mother choked back a sob as she realized nothing could be done.  He could not climb up the cliff.  And they could not go to the bottom  to rescue him.  Morgan neighed softly and said, "I love you mother and I understand."

He lay on the cold, damp sand dreaming of his family and his home.  For three days he couldn't move.  On the fourth day Morgan woke up to a beacon of light shining directly on him.  Then a booming voice asked why he was sleeping on the cold, cold sand. 

"My name is Morgan," he said.  "I am here because I didn't listen to my mother and foolishly fell from the rocks.  Now I am waiting to die, for no one can help me."  With that he began to cry and cry.

"Morgan, we can help you.  But there are conditions. You will never be able to go back to the green meadow  where your mother and others like you live.  You will be changed into something wonderful, but different than those living on this earth.  We can and we will save you, but you must decide."

Morgan thought of a gentler time when he had played in the meadow and nuzzled his mother and others of his kind.  But Morgan knew his only hope of continuing was to accept.  Beams of light began to penetrate his wounded leg, soon he stood up.  His leg was healed.  Slowly he began to follow the river, but not before taking one more look at the waterfall.  There at the top stood his mother.  "Good-bye, mother.  I'll always love you."  (Adapted from Morgan Morning by Stephen Cosgrove)

Twice we have been to see Andy at the jail and both times we've been turned away because he was on restriction from any and all communication with those on the "outside."  I thought of this children's story.  I know mercy cannot rob justice, but I also know "mercy claimeth all which is her own, and thus, none but the truly penitent are saved."  (Alma 42:24)  I hope Andy decides to accept.

THE LATEST UPDATE

I've seen Andy several times since he's been in Pima County Jail.  But he finished the hearings and the disposition of his AZ case a couple of weeks ago.  I'm surprised he is still here, but we do get to see him easily enough so I'll accept it.  And when he goes back to Eloy, who knows if he'll get to stay and for how long. He does seem to be a different young man than he was two years ago.  He's clean, he's accepting responsibility, he's making plans for his life.  These are all good things.  I do get dark feelings occasionally, sadness for the choices he made and wondering why or what could have made the difference.  But I push those aside and remember the tender mercies he and I have been blessed with.  These compensatory graces show me that he is in God's care, and we are loved by merciful Father in heaven. 

Joyfully Delicious

In Alma 32 we read about "experimenting upon the word" by planting the seed of faith, nourishing the tree (the word), and waiting with diligence and patience, looking forward to the fruit that is most precious, which is sweet above all that is sweet, and which is white above all that is white, yea and pure above all that is pure.

Andy was in California, then he was sent to AZ, off again within a few weeks to Oklahoma where he thought he would settle in for the next few years.  We got a phone call a week ago from him telling us he was being transferred again, but didn't know where.  On Thursday he called and said he was in Pima County Jail, just down the street!  When in the La Palma correctional facility the first time he asked me for names and addresses so he could begin to take care of unfinished legal business.  A hearing was scheduled and he was sent to AZ once again.  We were able to visit him on Friday for thirty minutes on a video monitor.  It has been almost two years since I have seen him.  And although via phone and a fuzzy video my visit with him was the fruit that is sweet, white and pure.  It was joyfully delicious.

The "word" for me was "And I will also ease the burdens which are put upon your shoulders, that even you cannot feel them upon your backs, even while you are in bondage ... And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light, yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord."

I stand as a witness that the Lord God does visit His people in their afflictions.  

Another Tender Mercy

The prison bus dropped Andy off in Sayre, Oklahoma to spend the next however many years, not Mississippi!  What a surprise! Still far away from home, but at least closer than the deep southern state.  I wanted to find out if there were any LDS services at the prison so I checked on lds.org's meetinghouse locator.  I called the Bishop of the nearest Ward to ask if he knew of any members who might have a prison ministry.  There aren't.  I noticed the town of Edmond, Ok on the locator.  I have a friend who lives there who just happens to be the Stake President.  I asked the Bishop's wife (he wasn't home) if the name of their Stake President is Kevin Graves. YES!  Sister Turner also told me there is an LDS guard at the prison who belongs to their Ward, and that my friend is Andy's Stake President!  Needless to say I've talked to my friend and he is going to do all he can to reach out to my son.  He is thrilled with the opportunity to fellowship him.  I remember when Kevin was in our Bishopric here, how tickled he would get as he visited the Primary and watched Andy, as a Sunbeam, crawl around me and under my dress when I would conduct Primary.  He knows my son, and he loves him.  What a sweet Mother's Day gift to me.     

A Little Rain Must Fall ...

We got a letter from Andy yesterday telling us he was being transferred to Mississippi on April 25th--a 39 hour uncomfortable bus trip shackled in chains, as he explained.  So he's there today.  My heart broke for him.  He sounded resolved that this is the way it is, but if I could read between the lines, I'm sure he feels a loss being moved from his home state. What makes me sad is he won't ever have any visitors in Mississippi; we could have visited here.  But after having a such a sweet tender mercy (the brother I met in the temple did visit with Andy in the La Palma correctional facility!) in the temple I have to trust and believe that God knows what is best for my son and His son.  

I've been thinking about something for a long time, probably more so since I've been volunteering at Superior Court. I have watched orange clad prisoners, handcuffed together, being led into court. They are there for a wide variety of reasons.  I look at those men and women and think about my handcuffed son wearing prison clothing in some remote prison far away from home.  Then I remember  the sweet baby I gave birth to.  He was pure, he was innocent, clean, perfect in every way.  Every human being came into the world that very same way.  I loved that baby, and I love the man he is now.  I pray he will be protected and he will soon understand why he is where he is.

A Tender Mercy

In March Andy wrote and said he was being transferred from California to either Oklahoma or Mississippi.  His dad looked on the California Prison website and read that Andy was sent to La Palma Correctional Center in Eloy, Arizona!  We kept hoping for a letter from our son to verify that he was sent there and how he felt about it, but no word.  I felt some concern, but can't really do too much about that except pray, of course.

Tuesday I was in the temple sealing office waiting to participate in the sealing ordinance for about 50 family names.  While I was sitting there a fellow was asked if he was still doing his prison ministry.  I perked up immediately.  Then he was asked where?  My jawed dropped and tears filled my eyes when he said, "La Palma."  I whispered to him that my son had just been transferred there.  He asked me for Andy's name and said he would do what he can to invite him to their meeting on Thursday nights.  The temple worker came up to me and said, "I hope you realize you have just experienced a tender mercy from the Lord, and that happens all the time in the temple."

That very day when I got home a letter was waiting for me from Andy.  He wrote that his window faces the southwest towards the Tortolita mountains near our home. Another tender mercy.          

 

A Christmas Gift

In 2005 Andy went to Hawaii with us.  I have a picture of him giving me a big hug in front of this beautiful waterfall on the Big Island.  He's not in this picture taken by me in October, 2011.

I miss him, but either I have put up a wall, blocked out that part of my life, or I feel at peace.  I'm not really sure, I just know I don't think about him in prison too often.  He is in every prayer I utter, but I don't cry very much anymore because he is serving time. Our family was given a neat gift this Christmas to help bring him back into my thoughts.  We were getting ready to sit down for Christmas dinner which was prepared and served a few days before Christmas because someone was flying out the next day.  The doorbell rang.  I answered the door, but for a few seconds didn't recognize the young man standing on the steps. Then I realized it was a kid Andy hung out with in middle school and years after.  Of course I invited him to dinner which he accepted.  We had a delightful Christmas dinner laughing and reminiscing about him and Andy.  This young man lives in Colorado and was visiting his family.

After Todd left I thought to myself, what are the chances of this happening?  Was he led by the spirit to visit us at that time on this very day? I believe he was because of the sweet thoughts and memories that were generated in my heart of my youngest son.  I am very grateful.   

The Reason for the Season

We get a letter from Andy about every two or three weeks.  He can't call us like he used to, even collect.  It's good to get letters from him, and I think it's good for him to write because it gives him a chance to think deeper than, "hi mumsy, hi pops!"  I don't miss his phone calls, but I do like to read his letters.  He is changing.  I can tell by what he says that he's beginning to feel remorse for what he has done to his family.  He's understanding that life is not just about him, but also involves that group of people he grew up with.  He admits the wrong we do affects and hurts others, especially those closest to us. I will not expect nor hold my breath that "he's a changed man."  Not yet anyway.  I believe that takes time, lots of it, and there hasn't been enough time.

.

I visited Temple Square in Salt Lake City last week to look at the Christmas lights, oh, what a beautiful heavenly land.  My seven year old grandson said almost reverently, "Grandma, it is so beautiful." He could feel the Christmas spirit or rather the spirit of Christmas.  I could, too.  This is a picture from the outside of the visitor's center of the Christus statue. It looks as if the Christ is floating in the air looking down on His people. I know there will come a day when Andy will repent fully, and he will be forgiven by the Great Healer.  That is the hope I cling to. 

Allegory of the Little Stream

I went to college a long time ago at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah. In the summertime I make a yearly trek back to the school for some enrichment education.  This year I found something had changed on the lower part of campus.  Let me set the scene for you:  BYU is located in the foothills of the majestic Wasatch Mountains.  They are spectacular.  When I was a student, the southern hill leading to campus was well manicured with walkways, grass, lots of trees and a botany pond.  Following one of the trails you would see a slow moving stream meandering its way down and around the hill.  It was pretty, serene and peaceful.  Many engagements have taken place at the Botany Pond.  And unfortunately since "there needs be opposition in all things" danger lurked at night as many young coeds have been attacked there as well.  We were always warned never to go through the area alone at night.

I heard the BYU Ground's Crew had been consructing with rocks and waterfalls on the already beautiful pathway and stream.  I wanted to check it out and this is what I found:        

One of many waterfalls along the walkway.

This almost looks like an ancient Greek ruin. 

I have been studying the Allegory of the Tame and Wild Olive Tree found in The Book of Mormon, Jacob 5. The chapter heading says the tame and wild olive tree are a likeness to Israel and the Gentiles.  I see a meaning more personal to me.  The Lord of the vineyard would not give up on the decaying trees, he grafted, digged about, pruned and nourished His trees. He even planted some in the nethermost part of the garden where possibly the ground wasn't as fertile. I might be simplifying this very long chapter in the book of Jacob, but I draw the sweet conclusion that I must not ever give up on my children.

So what does this allegory have to do with the little stream?  The walkway along the south end of campus was lovely.  Then servants digged about, raked, placed local stones, figured out how to make waterfalls, and nourished the new plants to make the area at the south end of campus even more lovely.  I wonder if the water or the pathway or if the rocks could talk they might say it was painful to be changed.  Andy is being changed.  It is painful.  Could it be more painful for me than him?  Could I be the one who is being changed?

Andy was sentenced a few weeks ago: 12 years in a state correctional facility, PRISON. I dreaded the day when he would call and tell us the consequences of his court hearings.  Just thinking about it made me sick to my stomach. After hearing that 12 years actually means 6 years and the fact he has served nine months already, he may be there less than 5 years.  Certainly long enough, but hopefully long enough for a change.  I hope both of us change for the better as we are being pruned, grafted, and digged about.  Andy might be in the nethermost part of the vineyard, but he will still be nourished so he can grow and produce sweet, edible fruit.              

"You Knew What I Was Before You Picked Me Up"

I love the Indian legend about the young brave who was sent into the mountains for his initiation into the tribe's elite brotherhood of warriors, a very desired place to be for a young man.  Before his descent from the top of the mountain the young Indian brave noticed a snake at his feet.  The snake said he was very cold and wondered if the young brave could put him in his pocket just for a little while.  The soon to be warrior asked the snake if he was crazy.  "But I'm cold, just for a short time.  Please.  I won't hurt you, I promise."  Soon the snake was riding warm and comfortable inside the brave's buckskin shirt.  Just as they reached the base of the mountain, the snake bit the Indian boy, forcing his poisonous venom inside the boy's veins.  "Why did you do that for?  You said you wouldn't hurt me," screamed the boy.  "You knew what I was when you piked me up," hissed the deadly snake. 

The moral of the story is, don't touch anything that has the potential to harm you, even though it may seem innocent and harmless. 

Nothing New

Nothing new has happened except that the public defender is trying to get the prosecutor thrown out for misconduct concerning Andy's case.  Allegedly the attorney for the prosecution was tweeting, texting, emailing about the case and that she is "going to get him."  How the defense attorney found this out, I have no idea, but in the meantime more time passes.  Which is not a bad thing because it counts as time he has served, and where he is right now is a better place to be serving than in another.  His optimism has waned, and he has sounded more discouraged the last few times we have talked.  I don't know that he has turned any kind of corner or is ready to make changes in his life.  

Andy's dad and I were talking to a guy about our children the other day.  We said we had five children, the oldest a disciplined athlete who trains endurance athletes to do the same, a daughter who is a therapist for at-risk youth, one son going to medical school, and the other an Orthopaedic Surgeon.  He expressed his amazement at such accomplishments and said what great parents we are, blah, blah, blah.  I reached over, touched his arm and said, "don't get too impressed, we have one son in jail."  This son keeps us humble, but not ashamed.  I will not hide in a closet because of the choices he has made.  I think that is a huge part of my healing from this sad story.  I still have hope for this son.  His life is not over; he can become all he was sent to the the earth to become.  It might be plan B or even plan C, but there is hope.  And should his life end before that miracle of change takes place, I believe the opportunity for progression will be there for him, for all of us.