I spoke to my son in person for the first time yesterday. He was happy. For the first time since he was 8 years old he was happy. He is not homeless. He has a job. He is part of a family. He was clear in speech and thought. My son has always felt cheated that he did not have "real" brothers and sisters and that he did not fit in. His sister and brother were grown and out of the house when he was born. He is bi-racial and felt out of place. I truly believe that all things happen for a reason. When I kicked him out of the house he went to the other side of town. He ran into his half brother who also shares his racial make-up and is 9 months older than my son. I had tried to find him for years. Funny how things happen exactly like they are supposed to. They are sharing an apartment and he has connected with his uncles and other cousins. I have some reservations about this side of his family, but then again what do I know. He says for the first time in his life he feels connected and like he belongs. It was amazing to see him so relaxed and centered. I don't know if he is telling the truth about the charges being dropped or really anything else. It did not matter. I did not lecture. I took him to the store and bought some groceries. I could do that for him. I wanted to do that for him. He did not ask me for anything. It felt good to do this small thing for him. I could hug him and tell him that I loved him without the but in my voice. I finally understand. It is enough for things to be good just for this moment. That is all we have. I get it. This is his story not mine. I will not write the end of his story. I will love him where he is at. I am so happy for him that he has found where he belongs. I did my job. I taught him all I could. I nurtured him the best I could. I set him free to become who he wants to be. I have never been prouder of him.