Teenager-isms

Although there is no place in the world I am happier than in Khayelitsha with my kids, frustration and stress make up a very big part of my life here. Over the years I have developed very close relationships with many of the teenagers, all of whom come from situations that have landed them in a children's home, which tends to magnify the teenager-isms. My son Akon is now 18. I have spent the last 3 years holding his hand, guiding him along the right path, and then letting go, only to find out soon after that he has drifted off the path again. So time and time again I grab his hand and pull him back, no matter how frustrating and stressful it is. And sometimes I tell myself 'I can't keep doing this. I'm never going to get through to him'. But how can you decide a point in time that you are ready to give up on your son? You can't.

The past month has been another big test of our relationship since he has been in jail since the day before I arrived back here. Finding out things he has done wrong and things he has lied to me about has not been easy, and I again told myself I'm cutting him off financially, because he hasn't fulfilled his end of the deal. But of course I slept on it and the anger faded, and in my head he went back to being the perfect angel who could never have done these things, so of course it must all be a big misunderstanding somehow..

So I have visited him every Sunday from 2 to 4, just sitting with him, bringing him KFC and candy, telling him all the news, and telling him how much I love him. And I sat in court all day yesterday, waiting for them to call his name and bring him in so I could at least get a few minutes to see him from a distance. In the end, since his file was lost, the judge said he is free to go home. When he came out of the courtroom, I hugged him as if he had been locked away for 10 years (although I had hugged him just 4 days before this when I visited him). But I never thought it would be so different to hug him once he was free. It's a funny feeling - seeing your child in jail and then being released. It's an experience I hope to never have again, but I think my eyes sparkled a little bit brighter once we left that courtroom. I just kept smiling at him and he kept laughing at me.

Through all of this, I realized that this is what being a parent is about. It's not just about being proud of him for the good things that he does; it's also about sticking by him through the bad things. It's about grabbing his hand over and over and over again, no matter how long it takes, until he stays on the right path on his own. And even if that takes forever, even if he never stays on the right path alone, I will still be there grabbing his hand and pulling him back. It will be worth every penny, every tear, every gray hair, and every wrinkle in my forehead.

Most people remember the day they became a mother because it's a big event and a single day on the calendar. But I don't remember the day I became a mother. I don't remember choosing to be a mother, and I don't remember deciding I was ready to be a mother. I simply found that I in fact had already become a mother and there was nothing I could do to change it. I had two options: I could turn my back on this role and do exactly what his own parents had already done to him, or I could do the best I can with what I have and see where it takes us. I've never regretted my choice for a second.