I’ve had a great big dose of reality this week.
I spoke to the ombudsman.
I’m a legal guardian. I can pay the rent through the rep payee account. I can decide where my son lives.
I can’t impose any of my morals, ethics, rules or beliefs on my son. He is free to make any and all choices on his own.
I have to let him piddle his money away at thrift stores and garage sales. I have to let him have no less than 100 pens and 100 pencils and 50 little notepads. I have to let him buy 30-50 CD’s in a month.
I get it. Some of it.
The group home staff sure get to impose their believes and ideas on my son.
My sons birth date makes him 31. Psychological testing says he’s around 11.
I did the best I could to give him a solid base. At least, I’d like to think I did. Now, I get the privilege of sitting back and watching him go against everything I’ve ever taught him (insert sarcastic tone). Not unlike many parents, I’m sure, but it’s hard.
May he fly and be protected by our Heavenly Father. I can’t do it anymore.