Tuesday, June 25, 2013


     Friday night I cooked a large meal because Jason was coming home to have supper with me. I knew that this was likely not to happen. He rarely makes it home, even when he has assured me he will be here. While the chicken was in the oven I set an alarm and laid down for a quick nap. As I was drifting off to sleep I was thankful that I was born with a cheerful disposition. I have been able to survive in this world with very few scars. Suddenly,and without me asking for such a sight, a vision of a skinless body appeared in my head. It was similar to the type in science textbooks, only more flesh and blood. The body was covered with silvery white scars, covered. The sight shocked me awake. There would be no nap.
     We were planning to eat at eight. Hour by hour the time was pushed back until Jason was going to be here late and only stay for ten minutes or so. Several people had called me through the day and invited me out that night. The thought of sitting at home waiting for him to drop by seemed an act of desperation, so I called him and told him I was going out and we could make it another night.
    While I was calling around to get a group together Lane came home. He asked me if I was okay. Not just with tonight but with everything.  I assured him I was, and truly believed it. I have always been good at compartmentalizing emotions so they can be dealt with at more convenient times. Having made plans for the night I called Sofia to invite her. Of course she was concerned that Jason did not come home. She asked me the wrong/right question. "Don't you want to grab him and....and... do something?" "Of course," I replied. "I want to grab him and bring him home and make him be my baby again." She understood immediately. "Wrap him in a blanket and hold him all day." She added. Tears were streaming down my face. My red, wet eyes made putting eyeliner on difficult. This uncontrollable balling was going to make going out difficult. I told her the truth. "You are no fun; I can't talk to you right now."  My weekend was then filled with distractions; drinking, dancing, eating, and very little sleep.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

A supper date

I had a texting conversation with Jason today. Sadly I probably would not have texted him except for that his father called me at work today. He was concerned since he had not talked to Jason since Sunday. I too had not talked to my son since Sunday, but not being a worrier I had not felt any concern about the time-span. I sent a text instructing Jason to answer me so I could set his father's mind at ease, which I knew was full of death, jail, and hospitalization scenes. Jason responded quickly, and with good humor, to remind me he was both busy and an adult. We sent a few amusing texts back and forth which ended in him suggesting we get together soon. We have agreed on supper at my house on Friday. I really hope he comes. His brother Lane spent time with him last weekend and reports that he is looking healthier. I want to see this with my own eyes. I would not trade my offspring for anybody on this earth. Even during the trying times they are three of the most interesting, entertaining people on earth.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Beautiful Boy

It has been almost a year since I have wrote a new post. Part of the problem has been Facebook. It is easier to share a quick meme, or write a funny quip than to search my soul for something to say here. The interaction, although more immediate, is superficial. It is the McBlog of the Internet. The other part of the problem is that my life doesn't change much. I looked at the date on my last post and wondered what is different today. I am only a few months away from forty now, but those numbers never have meant much to me. The only time I cringe is when a I meet interesting twenty something men and know I am going to have to say the number eventually. The actual saying of it never means much to either of us in the end.

Waking up this morning my thoughts went immediately to the vegetable bars on my table. I had eaten two of them before going to bed at 3:30 this morning and I wanted another one. I have become addicted to them. After eating a couple I started to search out my copy of Jane Eyre. While searching shelves and piles of books I kept coming across other books I wanted to read. I found a book I picked up cheap at at used book store called "Beautiful Boy a father's journey through his son's addiction" I don't remember my motivation for buying it, but now it seems relevant to my life. I carry it over to the table beside my bed which serves as a holding space for books I'm going to read. With my original goal ending in despair I lay down to start this book. It is a bad idea because I am nowhere near finished with my book club book and our meeting is next week. Right away my tears start rolling down the sides of my face while I read. The father describes his son and the physical changes he notices. That is the hardest part, looking at your son so full of potential, seeing his thin face while your mind automatically overlays it with the full, youthful face of a year ago. I put the book down soon after I start. The similarities in our stories end quickly. I am jealous of the active role these parents play in their adult son's addiction. They have curfews and drug tests, confrontations about whether he has started using again. Our story is a rural Midwestern story. My son dropped out of school, lives with roommates living the same lifestyle as he is. There is no denial, no missed AA meetings, and my role is to pray every night that my son will not end up in prison or dead. These are not the sort of thoughts I can post on Facebook.