The day he drove off to begin his freshman year, I stood in the driveway and waved until he turned the corner. As soon as he was gone, I cried. Robert slipped an arm around me and said, “Carol, he’s going to make us proud.” And for a long time, I believed him.
The Illusion of Progress
In the beginning, everything seemed promising. Jason called often, sharing updates about tough professors, demanding assignments, and new friends. Month after month, we sent money—enough for tuition, textbooks, and living costs. When he mentioned “unexpected fees,” we added more.
Jason even emailed us what looked like official tuition statements. They appeared completely legitimate. Why would we have doubted him? He was our child.
But midway through his second year, the communication changed. Calls became rare. Texts grew short: Busy, Mom. Huge project. Studying all night.
He skipped Thanksgiving because of a group assignment. He missed Christmas, saying a new campus job made traveling impossible. Robert tried to stay optimistic, though disappointment was written all over his face.Continue reading…
