A month before college began, Logan came into my bedroom carrying a stack of papers.
"Mom, can you help me with something?"
I put down my book.
"Of course."
He showed me his enrollment forms, financial aid documents, and a list of equipment he would need for his first semester.
Some of the costs were higher than expected.
He had already researched used textbooks and payment plans, but he was worried about transportation.
I studied the numbers.
Then I asked him what he thought we should do.
He blinked.
"You want my opinion?"
"You're the one going to college. Your opinion matters."
We worked through the options together.
I agreed to help with transportation expenses within our budget. Logan agreed to keep his part-time job to a manageable number of hours and speak with the college's financial aid office about additional assistance.
There would still be sacrifices.
I would have to watch my spending.
He would have to plan his time carefully.
But neither of us would be pretending that everything was easy.
When we finished, Logan gathered the papers.
"Thanks, Mom."
I smiled.
"Anytime."
He hesitated.
Then he said, "I used to think asking for help meant I had failed."
"What do you think now?"
He considered the question.
"Maybe it means I trust someone enough to let them help."
I reached for his hand.
"That's a pretty good place to start."
Click here to continue reading: PART 17: The Promise His Father Finally Kept
The Police Officer Was Holding My Three-Year-Old Son
Part 16 of 20
