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hobgoblinnIt's just as well that I never sent that letter to the Bishop a while back. That's behind a friends lock, but the short version is, I was very angry at the Good Monsignor's continued unfriendly attitude toward me and Wee Hob. I decided to wait until it felt less like I was sending a flame, and by then I had realized that I wasn't sure what I really wanted and that sending such an incendiary letter was a really good way to take away all my choice in the matter. I do work there, after all, and sometimes I even get paid.
And now, I am in possession of some new information. Some information that leads me to believe I owe the good monsignor an apology, and although he has likely never seen my journal, a retraction here.
On Saturday, I was going through a box of odds and ends in my room when I noticed some smaller, very old boxes. Boxed crucifixes, probably purchased some 40 years ago and forgotten in the choir room until a certain Wee Hob stole them. Also, a bag of red zippers that match our robes.
I confronted him and he said, "Oh yeah, I forgot about those."
Yeah, okay, maybe. I made arrangements to return them to the head usher quietly, as I didn't want to give the Good Monsignor a new reason to be angry.
The head usher took them from Wee Hob and gave him a stern talking to. He then put them in the sacristy and I sent Wee Hob home with his godparents so I could get ready to sing my mass.
Then the head usher asked me if by chance I had seen any walkie talkies back then (short range ones, like toys but a little nicer). Actually I had. Wee Hob claimed they were his friend Ryan's and that they were playing with them and Ryan gave them to him. I had made him return them ages ago, believing in the aftermath of the Cathedral thefts that these were also stolen.
Gets worse. The Good Monsignor also approached me and wondered if Wee Hob were loose in his cathedral again. I told him no and explained the boxes as something that had been forgotten and recently found. And he asked if by chance I had seen a pair of binoculars.
That was another item I was sure was stolen but could not prove, and I had insisted he return it to its rightful owner as well. I had believed this was also something that had disappeared from Ryan's house, and Wee Hob told me he had returned it before I got home from work one day. I have never met Ryan's grandmother, who lives in our complex. I should have made more effort to do that, I realize.
When I confronted him about this, Wee Hob was able to locate the binoculars, which he had hidden elsewhere in the house. And he finally admitted that they were also from the Cathedral. He continues to swear the walkie talkies were given to him, but he can not tell me where they are now. No idea what else was missing from the Cathedral during this time period, but it seems clear that the Good Monsignor was trying to be decent and not present me with a laundry list when there was no proof Wee Hob was responsible for all of it. It's a fairly open building, and thefts do happen there.
So, while the Good Monsignor has maybe not been as gracious as he might have been, I really haven't been either. And my son is both a thief and a liar and I really do not know what to do. Other than take away all his privileges again, not trust him, be really angry at him and tell him I might take a long while to get over it, and make him write a letter of apology to the Good Monsignor: legible, properly spelled, and demonstrating both a clear understanding of all the ways his actions have wronged the man and a sincere penitence for it. This last is torture in a lot of ways-- he has a hard time writing, and it will take several copies before he gets one that's acceptable.
His therapist knows about it and is backing up my letter of apology demand-- he'll be excluded from camp outings until it's completed. The senseless of it really gets me, on top of the whole betrayal of trust thing. I mean, he was already caught, and these items were ones we had already told him we knew were stolen. How hard could it be to give them back to the right people, while you're already being punished for the offense? He lost all privileges and was grounded for months-- it's not like I could have done anything worse because he honestly had nothing left to take Already. I. Do. Not. Understand.
Back to my point. I was wrong, about a great many things, and regardless of anybody else's actions or omissions, and I wanted to state that publicly and for the record. Which I have now done.
And now, I am in possession of some new information. Some information that leads me to believe I owe the good monsignor an apology, and although he has likely never seen my journal, a retraction here.
On Saturday, I was going through a box of odds and ends in my room when I noticed some smaller, very old boxes. Boxed crucifixes, probably purchased some 40 years ago and forgotten in the choir room until a certain Wee Hob stole them. Also, a bag of red zippers that match our robes.
I confronted him and he said, "Oh yeah, I forgot about those."
Yeah, okay, maybe. I made arrangements to return them to the head usher quietly, as I didn't want to give the Good Monsignor a new reason to be angry.
The head usher took them from Wee Hob and gave him a stern talking to. He then put them in the sacristy and I sent Wee Hob home with his godparents so I could get ready to sing my mass.
Then the head usher asked me if by chance I had seen any walkie talkies back then (short range ones, like toys but a little nicer). Actually I had. Wee Hob claimed they were his friend Ryan's and that they were playing with them and Ryan gave them to him. I had made him return them ages ago, believing in the aftermath of the Cathedral thefts that these were also stolen.
Gets worse. The Good Monsignor also approached me and wondered if Wee Hob were loose in his cathedral again. I told him no and explained the boxes as something that had been forgotten and recently found. And he asked if by chance I had seen a pair of binoculars.
That was another item I was sure was stolen but could not prove, and I had insisted he return it to its rightful owner as well. I had believed this was also something that had disappeared from Ryan's house, and Wee Hob told me he had returned it before I got home from work one day. I have never met Ryan's grandmother, who lives in our complex. I should have made more effort to do that, I realize.
When I confronted him about this, Wee Hob was able to locate the binoculars, which he had hidden elsewhere in the house. And he finally admitted that they were also from the Cathedral. He continues to swear the walkie talkies were given to him, but he can not tell me where they are now. No idea what else was missing from the Cathedral during this time period, but it seems clear that the Good Monsignor was trying to be decent and not present me with a laundry list when there was no proof Wee Hob was responsible for all of it. It's a fairly open building, and thefts do happen there.
So, while the Good Monsignor has maybe not been as gracious as he might have been, I really haven't been either. And my son is both a thief and a liar and I really do not know what to do. Other than take away all his privileges again, not trust him, be really angry at him and tell him I might take a long while to get over it, and make him write a letter of apology to the Good Monsignor: legible, properly spelled, and demonstrating both a clear understanding of all the ways his actions have wronged the man and a sincere penitence for it. This last is torture in a lot of ways-- he has a hard time writing, and it will take several copies before he gets one that's acceptable.
His therapist knows about it and is backing up my letter of apology demand-- he'll be excluded from camp outings until it's completed. The senseless of it really gets me, on top of the whole betrayal of trust thing. I mean, he was already caught, and these items were ones we had already told him we knew were stolen. How hard could it be to give them back to the right people, while you're already being punished for the offense? He lost all privileges and was grounded for months-- it's not like I could have done anything worse because he honestly had nothing left to take Already. I. Do. Not. Understand.
Back to my point. I was wrong, about a great many things, and regardless of anybody else's actions or omissions, and I wanted to state that publicly and for the record. Which I have now done.
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Date: 2008-07-16 12:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-16 12:22 am (UTC)