The Paycheck

I just finished a conversation with my youngest son which ended, as usual, with me talking to dead air. I never have been able to instill phone courtesy in some of my children. I’ve learned not to take it personally, in his ADD mind I’m sure he’s on to other concerns in his thoughts.

He called in a panic. He was looking at his pay stub and had no clue as to how to read its information. Somehow, he thought that most of his paycheck was going to go towards taxes and other deductions.

It is a shock the first time you realize that some of your hard earned money will never cross your palm, but disappear into the huge entity we call government. To a young person who worked hard to earn a low paying wage, that money suddenly has more value. You hate to tell him that the higher his wage scale, the higher the percentage of his earnings will disappear into Uncle Sam’s ever open palm.

Poor kid, he didn’t know what net earnings meant; he thought that was what would be taken out, leaving him a pittance. Rationally, that seems pretty insane; all he had to do was to look at the check. Face it; I’d be willing to bet that the majority of young people sitting in government classes are zombiefied while the teacher dryly relates our system’s tax system. Having your pinkie nail pulled out by the roots would be preferable to that lesson.

In my role as a good mother, I took that moment to give him a mini lesson in the hated necessity of taxes. After all, we have paved roads, schools, police forces, libraries, firemen, armies and thousands of other amenities made possible from them. I even threw in that I had been in countries that don’t have our complex support system and how crappy the quality of life was for many of the people. It wasn’t long after that I realized I was talking to myself. I suddenly felt like that government teacher.

He asked me where he would have to sign the check and it was evident he’d figured that out correctly. I asked where he planned to cash his check and he mentioned the name of the credit union our family uses. I reminded him that without an account, almost all financial institutions would charge him a check cashing fee and require identification including his fingerprint. After all, they would be taking a chance that the check could be bogus.

I never got a chance to congratulate him on his first real paycheck, I’m sure he was eager to see what it feels like to spend some of that money. Of course, he has a few debts to pay. He had to borrow money to buy jeans to wear to work because his favorite style of raggedy, multiple hole ones were inappropriate. He also had planned to borrow money for a new phone; he’d sent his through the washing machine with those same holey pants.

He did not come to me for a loan. Right now, I am only a figure from afar in his life. He calls or visits me when he needs to be regrounded or reassured about a fear in his life. Number 6 child is of legal age and abruptly moved out with no warning twice this year. It seems to be his nature; it must be easier than the possibility of hearing any negative feedback. Of course, I would have definitely done the proper parental thing and advised him that he was not making a very wise choice.

It is really tough watching someone you love making a choice that you know with every fiber of your being is doomed to fail. He has been such a fragile person, he was so damaged when he came into our lives and we have fought so hard to guide him over the wreckage of his past. Basically he had to learn to be a person; his abuse had been so acute he had retreated into a world of dissociative behavior. Bringing him into the real world, helping him fuse with his feelings and encouraging him to learn to be a social being has been a hard journey. He has had so much personal pain in his life; I ache to see him put himself in the path of more.

Once he emerged from the hard shell of his protective cocoon, he rebounded in the opposite direction. All he wanted was a social life and his hunger for human connection was so strong, he was unable to function in school. The social pressures were so hard in high school; he finally retreated once again and spent the day in sleep and isolation. It was one of the hardest decisions of my life, but we finally pulled him out and immediately he revived and began to develop again. It took almost two years for him to find himself active in society with friends and girlfriends; he was happy and beginning to evolve.

Unfortunately, he was not evolving in his education or work life. Sigh. Number 6 seemed to be fated to evolving one life skill at a time. Considering how far he has come, I have to look at his situation different than a parent who received their child from the womb, a clean slate. When you get your child at an older age, you have no control over his development or the treatment he has received. It is a shock to realize how cruel and sadistic parents can be to their children. I’m amazed he is a functional as he is.

The first time he moved out was with Number 3 child, it was doomed from the start. They moved in with a casual friend in a rural community south of our city. Neither had a vehicle and only one had a part time job. Needless to say, the struggle to try to maintain a social life and feed themselves ended badly. They drove off many of their friends after badgering them for rides and mooching off of them. They were in a rebellious stage and I’m not sure I want to know what their social life entailed. They were not in communication with us for almost two months. Eventually Number 6 had enough of it and appeared home one day and asked if he could come home.

There was an event that I know played a large role in his need to get away. Prior to his disappearance, he was the passenger in a car that struck and killed a fellow student who tried to cross a wide, busy thoroughfare late one night. The victim was with a group of friends, but due to his little person stature could not move as quickly as the others. The memory of the moment of his body being struck and what followed was extremely traumatic. I know my son grieved for that young man. He has a tender heart and is young to learn the sobering lesson that we are mortal and death is real. It was ruled an accident, but I know it will remain in his heart and mind forever as a horrible tragedy he wishes he could have prevented. Unfortunately it is just one more thing to trigger flash backs in his mind.

I know that you cannot run from yourself, but it’s not usually something that a nineteen year old understands. He has been on the run from himself every since. He is running from his past, his failure in school, his unhappiness with himself and the responsibility of his life.

That paycheck is a big symbol to me. It is not just my son’s first conventional paycheck, but a sign that he is beginning to mature and face life. Five years ago, few would have believed he would have ever reached this stage.

I have definite morals that follow conservative lines. I do not believe in breaking the law, casual sex for teenagers, drug abuse or destructive behaviors. When a person is emotionally damaged, it seems many are drawn to these behaviors like a nail to one of those super electromagnets they use in a junk yard. I know he crossed the line with more than one of my standards. It’s not because I’m one of those holier than thou stiff hypocrites we all know and love; it’s because I’ve lived enough years to see what these behaviors do to damage people.

I always knew Number 6 would be vulnerable to affairs of the heart. He spent so many years unloved in this world, alone and friendless. Because of the shell he erected around himself, it was almost inevitable he would be vulnerable to the heady sensations of romantic love. He met a young high school girl as vulnerable and desperate for love as he was and dove headfirst into a steamy relationship. Their love was instantaneous and fiery without any real knowledge of each other. They were both deeply in love with the idea of love.

Wisdom tells you that real, deep mature love that can weather time and problems can only develop as persons spends time together and share experiences. It also tells you that teen romance can seem very real to those involved, but it is only a stage in the development of an individual on their way to real love.

One day Number 6 disappeared again and we learned through acquaintances of my two youngest daughters that he had moved in with his girlfriend. I was broken hearted, it was not what I know in my heart will be what he needs.

I was also angry and horrified. The girl is eighteen, but what parent of a high school junior invites her boyfriend of maybe a month to move into their daughter’s bedroom? I find it inconceivable and irresponsible. As time passed and I learned more about the situation, it became clearer. It seems the mother is married to a man who is not the girlfriend’s father and they had one year old twins. Number 6 was recruited as a babysitter. The daughter was not reliable or willing. The father works part time and seems to have an affection for weed. The girlfriend has a notorious temper and a reputation for being “weird” and wild at school. Never underestimate the power sex has over the mind of a teenage boy. It is a seductive drug that is hard to resist. Violence and conflict have a bad effect on my youngest son and trigger episodes of flashbacks and probably panic attacks. I’ve been told the stepfather has beaten his stepdaughter.

Why do some of my children chose to enter the lives of dysfunctional families that bring back their past again? Experts tell us that deep in their psyches they are trying to relive their past only this time have some control over it and even make it better. It makes sense. When a child is abused, there is no control, no ability to make things right.

As some of my children attempt to relive their early years and change the course of history, Mama sits at home holding her breath, hoping they emerge through the experience safely. Meanwhile, I’m here, waiting for them. It is my job to be here when they reach for a hand or branch to pull them out of the deep pool of quicksand they have thrown themselves into.

Once a child is of legal age, you lose important control over them. You don’t legally have the ability to keep them from getting in trouble. You just have to advise, warn, beg or whatever you can think of to try to guide them back onto the safe road. Sometimes they take a dangerous path and there is no rest, only unpleasant anxiety as they move along. Sigh! I swear it is harder than when they were little. Now the mistakes can be more serious and impact their entire adult lives. I just have to hope and pray maturity sets in and their minds suddenly remember the things we have tried to teach them about life.

Love can definitely bring incredible joy, but it can also bring unbearable pain. That paycheck was a ray of hope for me. He finally pursued a real job and was able to secure one and make it past the first day. It symbolized an ability to make a commitment.  An added hope is that he has reenrolled in the GED program and has set up a class schedule. 

I know that all is not well in the land of romance and he has called and asked to come home more than once lately. So far, he’s been drawn back into the relationship; like I said, sex is very powerful in the life of a nineteen year old. It can even convince one that it is true love and not just a physical act. It is all very confusing to one who did not have a loving start in life and craves real affection. Perhaps the next paycheck in my mind will be when he sees the difference. It will be pleasant mile marker in his journey to responsible adulthood.