When my son was sentenced to a 6 month military style boot camp my heart sank. I was devastated and couldn't imagine how I was going to make it through his six months. I conjured up thoughts of people being abused, yelled at, belittled, even beaten. I went so far as to do a search on the Internet of the specific camp he was being sent to. There was an article from a mother stating that it is unbelievable that these forms of punishment exist in our society. I hurt for him. I suffered for him. I could not image what could be much worse than that. I imagined myself there and wondered how I would make it through.

During his boot camp time I heard from him twice. Once he warned me not to address any letter to him other than using the salutation of "Dear Blake" because if I did anything else they would make him do push ups. The second time he wrote he said they kept him busy every moment of the day and he rarely had free time.

When he came home he looked better than he had looked for years. His eyes were bright, his skin flawless and his body in magnificent shape. And you know what, he was on fire with the physical gains he had made. He told me at length about the obstacle courses, the runs and the hikes. He had such pride in his accomplishments.

So from all that I learned that just because I might hate one of his left turns in life doesn't mean that he would hate it. And all my worrying and fretting did nothing for him. It only made me miserable. So today I will remember that. When I pick up his consequences and worry about them, I will stop and remind myself that I have my own life. I will put him down and move on.