When cornered, caught and confronted, he promised to change, but simply found other ways to do what he wanted. More drugs, more violence, more crazy stunts. He learned to talk quicker to avoid consequences and run faster to avoid the law.
It started getting harder. He remembered getting tired, getting scared again. Not so much scared of others anymore, but more scared of himself. He was smart enough to know he couldn't keep going, but dumb enough to try anyway.
One day he overdoses and is dumped by panicked friends by a curbside, hoping that someone will notice - without them taking a chance at getting caught.
He regains consciousness in the hospital. People fade into the background. He wishes it was all a bad dream. He opens his eyes. He's still in the hospital, people around him still telling him he's lucky to be alive. This dream is not going away.
His mom comes in the room, face etched with tears and despair. She asks, “What did we do wrong?”
It's an odd question, really. But as a pastor I've heard it too often. Strange, but it seems the people who ought to ask that question don't. Others go above and beyond responsibilities and expectations. And yet they're the ones racked with guilt!
In this case, it was immigrant parents, giving their all for their kids. They laboured under the naïve assumption that if they did good, provided well, went to church and worked hard, their kids would be guaranteed a good future. But now they wonder. Maybe there's something more they could have done, something else they should have said.
Many parents are trying desperately to save, or find, their kids. I met a mom yesterday whose teen daughter was missing. She was worried. I’ve gone out with parents trying to find a partying daughter. I’ve gone into apartment blocks where teen runaways were being pimped in exchange for shelter. I’ve done funerals for those who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, turn around to come back.
I try to convince parents that, even if they could have done something different, the kids are responsible for their choices. We review their actions. If there’s an apology owing or a better course of action, we try it.
The truth, however, is that parents have more influence than control over their kids. Some parents seem to do everything right, while their kids make all the wrong choices. But the anguish of parents is unabated by logical limits on their culpability. I guess that’s just the nature of parents.
Back at the hospital, the kid looks at his mom, and decides to answer her question honestly.
"There’s nothing you need to change, mom. I just messed up. Sorry.”
His dad quietly looks into the room. Eyes connect. Apologies flow without words.
The truth hurt. There really was no one else to blame. So the kid decides to try and take responsibility.
He finishes high school, and more. Gets married and has three kids. Becomes a preacher in the West End of Winnipeg. For 18 years he's been talking to grieving parents and wandering kids. Some come back, some pass away. Sometimes there are tears of joy, sometimes inconsolable grief. Sometimes funerals, sometimes weddings, graduations, and grandchildren.
He looks at his own teens. With high hopes and occasional fears, he and his wife determine that they’ll do their best, pray lots…
…and humbly leave the rest to the kids.
Rev. Harry Lehotsky
514 Maryland Street
Winnipeg, Mb R3G 1M5
(204) 775-4929
lehotsky@escape.ca