Tag Archives: help


You know when your stomach starts to ache and your pulse begins to quicken because you have ‘that’ feeling that something isn’t right…?

I have that.

I hate this.

How do you learn to trust again after so many lies…….?



Catch up

So, we went to the Cayman Islands…great escape.  We had our son’s phone account forwarded so we could hear from him while we were away.  Well that didn’t work…he called 4 times and we were not able to accept any of his calls.  It was heart breaking.  He thought maybe we didn’t want to chat, so that was very frustrating!

Talk about a shocker:  we visited our son Sunday night and he had shaved his head; not down to his scalp but pretty close. His hair is normally a crazy mess of summery blond waves.  His hair cut choices were clippers or nothing, so he went with the clippers.  It will grow back eventually, ha!!

I had an interesting day yesterday –  I got to pick my son up for ‘work release’.  He just got a job about 2 weeks ago through the jail and they let him arrange his own transportation (what is up with that??)  Anyway, I actually had butterflies as I waited for him to exit the building and jump into my car.  He had asked if I would prepare him a home-cooked meal that he could eat on his way to work…so I did, with love!  He got a bacon double cheese burger, dill pickle, fresh raspberries and a slice of triple chocolate (that was left over from his younger brothers birthday on Sunday).  Did you know you don’t get any fresh fruit in jail?  He devoured the raspberries!!  We drove directly to his work; had the radio on low, the windows cracked and we chit-chatted…for a few minutes I even thought everything we have been dealing with was a horribly bad nightmare.  I had my son in my car and I wanted to run away, far far away.  We were able to talk for about half an hour.  I still have so many questions for him, that I had posed in the form of a letter (which he had just received that afternoon), so we discussed some of that, then we talked about our vacation and how odd it had been without him there.  It was pretty regular, basic mother / son chatting.  When our time was up we hugged and I took a selfie of us….he got out of my car and walked into his building.  I cried.  I cried for the entire 15 minute drive home.  I cried for the lost dreams I have for my son, I cried for the hard hard lessons that are being learned by all of us and I cried for me….his mom, because I still can hardly grasp that my son is in jail.

So now it’s Thursday afternoon and my phone just rang.  It was my son and he has been transferred yet again, this is the third and hopefully final time.  This time he has been moved to an Adult (since when is 17 an adult) Probationary residential treatment program.  This place was his original sentence, he has been sitting in jail waiting for a spot to open here.   Once we found out this treatment facility was in his future we began researching other options.  The reputation is not one of effectiveness.  He needs a drug / addiction treatment facility where he can have doctors assist him with overcoming his addictions.  His current ‘home’ teaches him ‘job readiness and anger management’; while those are necessary and excellent skills to have, he isn’t ready for that.  We petitioned the court to please let us send him to a private pay facility (we would assume the cost) where his additions will be addressed while he is in a safe and doctor monitored environment, our Judge basically told us to F-off.  His letter was curt, rude and lacked all compassion.  We informed the judge of our son’s desire to quit his drug use but that he wasn’t sure if he would be able to say no if given the opportunity to use.  This current facility is in the urban hood of our town; guess what is readily available on every street corner?  Guess what they want my son to do?  Take a bus to _____ and find a new job….we (along with our son) are scared to death that he will stumble onto or seek out drugs and land right back in jail with a new and more severe sentence because of his addictions (which won’t be addressed at the facility the judge put him in).

I’m typing like a crazed woman right now.  I’m so angry, frustrated and sad.  We felt our plea to the judge was a win-win for everyone.  Our son serves his ‘time’ and then gets help for his addictions which is what caused him to commit the crime.  By addressing the root problem we can help him overcome his drug problem and hopefully stay out of the legal system for good.  Hence a rehabilitated inmate…….

My husband and I will leave soon to take our son some of his own clothes, bedding and coins for the pay phone……if you pray, please pray our son can remain strong and drug free while he will be in the midst of much temptation.


If only I could have put him in a bubble!!