Mom from afar

 J dropped out of high school and took a travelling construction job. 

He was miserable living in the home he was at and struggling to get by working at KFC. He never wanted to live away from AZ but told me now he had to survive. 

He goes to the job site and lives out of a motel for weeks at a time, working 50 hours or more per week, and then returns to Arizona for a few days. During those days he lives with his friend Hunter, who he has always considered his family. When I learned he had moved in with them I was hurt. I knew he wanted to live with them years ago and they just weren't in a position to say yes. I'm glad they finally did say yes because it's the place he feels most comfortable and I want that for him.

On Mother's Day the only message I got from J was asking if he got any mail. When I delivered it the response was "Thanks." and the door shut in my face. No Happy Mother's Day. No real acknowledgment at all.  

I tried to convince myself I couldn't take it personally but I also felt like that was the end of him even considering me one of his many mothers. 

I'm not sure what happened this month but J did text Brendon for Father's Day and on Tuesday he called me from California. He called to tell me he was making good money and he wanted my help to save some of it for a car or a place of his own. This level of trust is a big deal. For the past year he has held tight to a lot of information. He didn't want anyone to know where he was living or how much money he was making. Even the people he was living with didn't have that information--because he didn't want them asking for more money for rent. 

He also called to vent about his job. He loves it, loves the consistent work, but of course he's not a fan of some of the people he works with.

His job position is a mucker. He helps set up space for concrete to be poured and when it is poured he steps into it to make sure there are no bubbles and that it all is spread level. 

At night he smokes, sometimes drinks, and hangs out with the other guys watching TV and playing video games.  

We talked for a half hour. He was well spoken. Sometimes when he's struggling his language struggles too but he sounded good. 

I remember when he first moved into our house and he would sometimes call his old group home manager just to chat--because he considered him a father figure. I always wondered if I would ever get to that level with him... and then he called.