Shhhh… You Don't Know Me

November 15, 2009

Filed under: Daily Jabber — Shhhh @ 5:27 pm

I don’t even know what to call this post.  I’m pretty much shell shocked.

Okay, here’s the thing…  my oldest son is 23.  His father died when he was 13 of Aids.  His grandmother committed suicide two days before his 11th birthday.  He’s ADHD.  He was the child of a 17 year old that was disowned (thankfully) by her alcoholic abusive family.  He grew up at the same time his mom did.  And let’s just say it took a lot of years to find the right path, and for all the good Karma to come around like she always knew it would for her one day.  He grew up in those years.

So was I suprised when he started dealing drugs?  No.  Was I shocked when I found out he started dealing coke?  No. 

The thing is, he’s not been able to hold down any job for longer than six weeks, his entire life.  But he’s been very successful as a dealer.  So I’ve shrugged and just stressed to him that I don’t want to read about him being shot in the newspaper.  I also talked to his bosses, who are old school, and know people I know from my past dabbling in the lifestyle, back in the 80’s.  They made promises to me to look after my boy.

So, fast forward to last night.  I head out to my favourite watering hole.  It’s the one that OS (older son) works out of.  It’s the bartenders birthday, and I promised him I’d be there.  OS comes in, and he’s wearing a shirt with a giant pot leaf on the back, some skulls, and a smattering of pot leaves on the front, like a logo.  I joked and said “is that your walking sandwichboard”, and he says to me with a little laugh “actually, I have to talk to you about that”.

My heart dropped.  What happened?

He was busted.  Hard.  A guy that had been introduced to him six months before by someone he trusted.  Had been buying from him steadily that whole time.  This guy called him up and told him he wanted 3 ounces of pot and I don’t recall how much coke.  They agreed to a meet.

OS showed up with a backpack full of the goods.  Dude was there with another dude that OS has seen with him before.  They talked money, first dude asked to see the goods, OS opened the backpack to show him.  He took a look in the backpack, stepped back, other dude stepped forward, flashed his badge, pulled out the handcuffs and read OS his rights.

OS said that it was like his stomach turned to cement and tried falling out his ass.  Can you imagine??  Can you imagine how awful that feeling must have been for him?  I can.

He spent the day in our municipal lockup.  While being questioned, he remembered what one of his bosses had told him to say if he was ever busted.  So there he is sitting, being questioned “where did you get the stuff?” and out of his mouth comes “the drug fairy.  I put the money under my pillow, and when I wake up in the morning, the money is gone and the drugs are there.”  OS said he was shocked to hear that come out of his own mouth, but once it was said he stuck to it like glue.

After he was released he went back to his bosses.  They called a staff meeting and talked it all out.  Because OS had done his best to protect them, and (it was stated) because they had made a promise to his mom, they are taking care of him.  He has an appointment with a top notch lawyer that has worked for all of them, tomorrow.  He starts a job working for an auto detailing company tomorrow.  His debt with the boys?  Washed clean.  He lost about $800 cash and $750 worth of product in the bust.  Washed clean.

It’s his first offence so he probably won’t get jail time.  Although, he should.  He plans on keeping his nose clean so that when it goes to court he can say honestly that he’s worked hard to change his life for the better.

But it’s all a ploy.  His face is dirty right now, but he’ll be back in the life.  We both know it.

I had to walk away during our conversation, and take a minute and breathe.  OS came wandering out the bar after me, and I said to him “you have no idea what I’m thinking, so don’t assume you do”.  He says “I don’t know WHAT you are thinking”.

I told him that while I was sitting there listening to him, I had the most giant, horrific wave of shame wash over me, and it was not good.  Not good.  It felt damn awful.  I said to him “don’t take that personally, although truth be told I don’t know how you can’t, but these are my feelings, my emotions, and I am feeling them”.  He understood.  And he said “Mom, I’m an adult.  I’m taking care of myself.  I’ll be okay.”

We hugged and I cried a few tears.  And now we are fine. 

When you hold your infant child in your arms, you do your best to look into the future and see what will become of them.  You smile quietly as they grow, and you hear them state “I want to be a fireman when I grow up!”  I’m reminded of a commercial they ran for a while that had little children, six or seven years old that were saying “I want to be a drug addict when I grow up” and such.  And the point was that people don’t choose to grow up to be addicts.  People don’t choose to grow up and take the wrong paths.

It’s a good thing I’m not looking for answers.  I know in my heart I did the best parenting job with the tools I had.  I know that OS is a good hearted man.  I know that he will figure things out on his own.  He has to.  I can’t do it for him.  Maybe it breaks my heart more that he doesn’t want me to.  My job really IS over with him.  All I can do is sit back and be his friend, his support, his listening block, and his advice giver when he asks for it (and sometimes when I can’t bloody help but give it whether he wants it or not).

My heart is a little broken.  And I loathe anyone asking “oh, what does your son do for a living?”.

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