My son stuck around for a few days and came to visit me three days in a row. He stayed the whole day on Wednesday through both visitation times.
I hadn’t slept at all the night before he arrived, but the joy of seeing him kept me awake and alert all day. I asked about the call from Child Protective Services and discovered it was more about an issue between his mother and her current husband and had little to do with him. He’d not been harmed. I can’t express how relieved I am, but I still worry about his home situation. I’m so powerless and absent.
Seeing him was wonderful, though. He’s such a great kid (how he’s turned out so well is beyond me). We played cards and took turns reading to each other out of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. He kept getting snacks from the vending machines in the visitation room to share with me. I think he wanted to treat me to something to feel like he was helping me out in some small way. I didn’t have the heart to refuse a single piece of the candy he offered even though I was light-headed from the sugar rush as I walked back to my cell at night.
The hardest part was having a real man-to-man talk about what I’ve been accused and convicted of and what it means for our future.