My Apologies and Other Assorted Stuff....

OMG - I just checked and realized I have had my thousandth hit according to my blog counter. And to think I haven't even posted in what, 2, maybe 3 weeks????

Of course, those thousand hits are probably made by the same handful of very nice people who check in on me from time to time - and at least probably 800+ of those from Chuck - just to make me feel important!!!

I have started to post about a million times - no, really, a million - but somehow my distracted frame of mind has always taken hold and won out, and I've managed to just continue wandering aimlessly through cyber space - if not life in general.

Things here have been up and then down - and then up and WAY down again since the last time I was here.

It is the start of the holiday season for me - Thanksgiving is the day after tomorrow (probably will be tomorrow before I finish this post, even). I love the holidays. This year will be a tough one for me, though, as I have managed to alienate my son after the events which have transpired over the past 7 days, and as of right now I have no idea where he even is - and he wants it that way.

Tough love isn't called that because of how hard it is on the recipient - it's called that because it's really tough on the one having to dish it out. Al-anon members would call it refusing to enable the alcoholic/addict. I call it pure hell. And I'm only about 48 hours into it.

A friend's husband saw my son today - in a pawn shop. He was with 2 other boys, and my son was pawning "a few things from the back of his truck" as he told my friend. Funny thing is, I don't know where he got the items described to me - and I don't even have a complete inventory of what he DID pawn, because the friend didn't want to appear nosey. I can tell you that the two items that were reported didn't belong to my son - at least as far as I know - or as far as his father will admit to me. We (both families) both have Nintendo 64 game systems - but they are both still in our possession, and the other item was a guitar amplifier - but my son never had one of those while he lived with me, nor does his father recall him having one - so....???

Of course, it IS possible that these items belonged to either of the other two boys with my son - and it is also possible that neither of these boys were of the age of majority, so my son pawned the items for them. Who knows? Given the fact that he used my debit card to take $20 out of my checking acct (use of the debit card was permitted - but not for the cash - he was to get gas only) - followed by a good 30 minutes of "not remembering" said transaction and/or denying it. I finally got an "Oh yeah, NOW I remember - I DID get money out of your acct at a pulse machine because I was hungry" but only AFTER I said I would just call and have the bank pull the security tapes of the transaction in order to identify the responsible party. Of course, he takes offense at the use of the word "thief" in conjunction with such actions - I told him if he could think of another word that means the same thing, I'd like to know - and would be happy to use it. And of course, my use of the word "thief" - along with "liar" and "loser" are now the basis for our "going our separate ways" - because he cannot continue to feel welcome in a house where he is not trusted. (Just so you know, those words were not the only ones used - but the ones he's chosen to focus on/take out of context and turn back on me - it doesn't matter that I said how much I love him and how much it kills me to think that he might be a liar/thief/loser, etc....)

Did I mention that I also asked to have my house key back?

Let me just say that I AM thankful for a lot of things this year. And I guess the top of my list is that I had the privilege of fighting with my son two days ago - at least I got to hear his voice, and at least I know for now he's alive because someone saw him today. I don't know how far this will go - or for how much longer it will continue. I pray that it has a positive resolution - with no loss of life or liberty - and I want my son to know that I miss him and love him very much. More than he can even comprehend.

I stand by the words I've spoken - harsh as they may be. I hope that maybe I can help him hit bottom (or the point at which he decides to return) sooner and with less suffering on his part or anyone else's, and that maybe he won't feel he's painted himself so far into a corner that he cannot get out - or ask for help getting out. I pray that God will heal my heart and my son's and that somehow, some day we can love (maybe I should say "like" here instead of "love" - I will always love him) and trust one another again. I pray that the phone has no need to ring in the middle of the night - or at any other time of day - with the message that he is injured or in jail.

I really pray that everyone who knows me and who knows what I'm going through can just not look at me with that hurt in their eyes anymore. I don't want to talk about it - I don't want to think about it - I don't want to deal with it anymore. I'm done. I just want my life back - and I don't want to be in charge anymore either. I don't want to yell or cry anymore. I'm tired. I want to rest and be restored. I want some idea of what next step to take. I want to be heard. I want to be trusted. I want to be loved. I need some relief. some help. some hope.

And then the sun comes up, and I hear "Mama? Where are yooooou?" and I know I have to go on - I have to be in charge - I cannot rest or yell or cry or even care if I'm heard or trusted or loved. There is no relief - and yet there is. I am a MOM - this IS my life. I AM HER HOPE. And I am thankful, still. ...osm