In three weeks we will leave on our annual trek to Florida. One glorious month.The one time of the year when I can tune out everyone and everything unpleasant. And this year I have been determined to think positive, keep smiling, and not prepare for a pre-trip disaster. No more references to my life and the movie Ground Hog Day. Things around here were changing. Yep...my old negative outlook was crumpled and tossed in the crapper,,,which, it turns out, is where it belonged.
As a snippet of background...much of my peace of mind comes from the state of my only offspring (can an adopted kid BE an offspring?). Only people with troubled kids can understand that...the rest believe we are weak. Fuck em. When he is not doing something illegal, is working, is pleasant and nice to be around....then I am at peace. It is rare that all of those elements ever converge in one place at one time...and I have settled for two out of the three most times. But these past three months have been different. I even dared to say it out loud. I had the audacity to say I think he has finally turned a corner." I relaxed. Not not not wise. (So when I get to Florida I will buy a bag of Wise Potato chips because I cannot get them in Wisconsin...perhaps they will help...)
Life has been like this since my son was 14. That was a long time ago. Before that -he was just a challenge. When he got old enough to make some really bad decisions, things changed and we endured a pattern of drugs, attitude, getting caught, hearings, lawyers and jail...followed by probation. It has never changed much. The offenses were different - but they were also not big...possession, possession, possession. Lawyers, shrinks, lawyers, judges, local jail, reform school...nothing mattered and nothing changed. We tried throwing him out, every consequence you can think of, lectures, role models...endless. Nothing changes, He is who he is. I strongly believe that many adopted kids are forever broken. That's the extra little kicker you get after plopping down a ton of money and being examined by social workers...a broken kid My son makes Humpty Dumpty look whole.
So, back to the present. November, December and January were the best. I cannot remember being so relaxed. I was less bothered by phone calls from him late at night (they used to always be bad news.."Mom I'm being arrested..."), police cars parked on our street (are they watching for him - did he do something?) and getting the mail. Getting the mail is almost always where I discovered something bad had happened. Two days ago I went to get the mail and looks like something bad has happened. Surprise! Fooled ya!!
It's the same old thing. I went on line to look up the arrest and discovered it happened in NOVEMBER. He said nothing. I suppose in his own twisted way he gave me a gift of three months.
His hearing is three days before I leave for Florida. I will not be there. I will not ask. I will not pay for a lawyer. I will not visit him in jail or prison (I have been this way for the past 3 arrests) I will not give him money or pay for the special and extradinarily expensive phone arrangements families have to make to get calls. This can and will stretch on for months. He may end up in jail..or prison (in this state habitual offenders go to prison after a certain number of arrests...he has hit the number).
This is his life...and it is also mine. I can go 1200 miles away but my gut is here....I love him but I hate what he has done with his life. He is considered a felon. And still I call him my son. Go figure.
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