Does he know?

I try not to think about it, but there are times just before I fall asleep that it comes through.  You see, there's nothing I can do about it.  No action or reaction on my part is going to change it today.  It's a waiting game, sometimes it's a game of waiting to see if my heart will just break.


My 17 year old son sits in adult jail with 900 other inmates.  I try to hope he's made some friends (although definitely not the kind of friends I really want for him.)  I try to hope that he's not been hurt, that he's doing ok.


Truth is, I don't know.  I don't know if he gets my letters because I've never gotten a response.  He doesn't call,  he doesn't write.  I haven't seen or heard from him in over a month.  I don't know if he knows how hard we've fought for him.  I don't know if he blames me, is angry, is hurt.  I just don't know.


I'm 1300 miles away from my baby.  And it kills me.  I know we had to come back to Wisconsin, save the many at the expense of the one someone called it.  A mother never wants to choose between her children, never wants to drive away from her child.  But it's a position I was put in and a choice I had to make.  


And it hurts.