I sat in the van as my husband got gas. I sat nearly paralized staring at the Red Brick Building that sits high on the corner of the main intersection in this small town.
My husband asked me to go into get drinks and something for the drive home. I declined. Telling him that I would prefer to stay in the car.
As I sit here staring at that Red Brick Building, the tears begin to fall even harder. Now they sting my cheeks as I wipe them away.
My mother heart and deep love tells me we should drive across the street and walk into the Red Brick Building on the corner.
And the common sense part of my mother heart says "that would not be smart."
The Red Brick Building is where C turned 18 years old a few weeks ago.
It is the County Jail.