PART 14 – The More I Thought About His Fear of the Police, the More I Realized That My Son Had Been Carrying a Burden No Eight-Year-Old Should Have Known

I kept returning to one sentence.

Tommy had told me that the police would make me go to jail.

I had heard him say it.

I had seen his expression.

He hadn't been joking.

He believed it.

That was what disturbed me most.

I wondered when he had first become afraid of police officers.

I wondered why he thought their arrival would mean punishment for me.

I didn't know.

And I wasn't going to guess.

I wanted Tommy to have the chance to explain things in his own words.

Without pressure.

Without someone telling him what he should say.

I had learned that lesson too late.

For months, I had tried to get answers by asking questions.

Sometimes Tommy answered.

Sometimes he didn't.

When he mentioned that his mother became angry if he talked about certain things, I had tried to understand.

But he always stopped.

I had respected his silence because I didn't want to force him.

Now I wondered whether I should have sought help more urgently.

I couldn't change that.

The officer remained nearby.

Lauren was still waiting.

I could see her looking toward the examination room.

She had arrived angry.

She had described the situation as a tantrum.

Then she had offered the explanation about a bathroom fall.

I remembered each statement.

I didn't know what the officer thought.

I didn't know what the medical staff would discover.

I wasn't going to pretend that I did.

But I knew what I had personally witnessed.

Tommy couldn't sit.

He was sweating.

His hands were shaking.

He was frightened.

Those were not opinions.

They were things I had seen with my own eyes.

I had spent too much time allowing other people to tell me what my son was feeling.

I wouldn't do that again.

A few minutes passed.

I looked toward the door.

I wanted to hear his voice.

I wanted to see him.

I wanted to take him home when the doctors said it was safe.

But I also knew that the next steps needed to be handled carefully.

I couldn't rush them simply because I was frightened.

So I waited.

And for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to accept that I didn't have to know everything immediately.

I only had to make sure Tommy wasn't left alone with his fear.

Click here to continue reading: PART 15: I No Longer Wanted Lauren to Understand My Reasons, Because the Only Person Whose Fear Mattered to Me Was the Little Boy Behind That Door