He was crying. He didn't try to hide it. It's okay to let it out in front of Mom. Not cool around his friends, who are all leaving soon for the likes of Wash U, Lehigh University, Stanford, University of Florida. This is the second wave of friends he has seen off to exciting futures, where anything is possible. The sky's the limit, and all that. He's being left behind. Again. Attending the local community college. Barely passing. The verdict is still out on whether he'll be allowed back in for the fall semester. His grades are that bad.

I wasn't sure what to say. What is a mom's role in this situation? Serve up useless platitudes? Give a hug to his 6 ft frame and assure him everything's going to work out, when I'm just as uncertain about his future? Tell him he's still young? There's plenty of time to catch up, when I know he feels like the clock is ticking?

He's always been sentimental about relationships and uncomfortable with change. My first hint of the softer side of my son was at five years of age. He was watching ET. When ET leaves Elliott for home in another galaxy, it was almost more than he could bare. He silently slid off the sofa and I watched his little legs carry him into my bedroom as he scurried up onto my bed and laid face down. I walked in and there he was silently sobbing over Elliott losing his best friend. Not much has changed.

The blow would be softened if he were leaving for his own exciting future. Going off to a new city to meet new people. (Okay, new girls are top priority.) Instead, he's stuck here with Mom, Dad, little sister, commuting to community college populated with a much older crowd, working at a local yogurt shop and faced with the reality that his entire social life is about is about to go up in flames.

I could go on a tirade about his learning problems, the school system, the cookie cutter system that doesn't have a place for kids like my son, the lack of empathy, my inadequacies as a parent. But all that really matters is now. What are we going to do NOW? Well intentioned friends and family members offer up advice. The thing I hear most often in an effort to make me feel better: "It's ridiculous to think everyone has to go to college." They are sincere. As long as the advice being dispensed is for someone else's child. Not theirs. They can hand out their sage advice, comfortable in the knowledge that their children are going to prestigious universities and have "real" futures.

We're not forcing him into this. He wants to go to college. He wants to be a teacher. Early childhood education. Kids and animals are his thing. He's the Pied Piper, only with far better intentions.

If he fails his summer course, he's out of the college game. At least for now.  We'll have to see what's waiting around the corner before we can start making plans for his future. And I know from experience that fate sometimes steps in and rearranges everything. I hope and pray that whatever it is, the design will be a good one.