Gone

My son disappeared.  He was no longer answering calls or messages from any of us.

I knew that it was bad when he was a no call no show at work.  He absolutely loved that job, and for him to just not show up indicated that this problem was way bigger than I originally thought.

I text him, called him, text him some more.  No answers.

His friends and coworkers did the same.  No answers.

I went to facebook, and sent out a message saying that he was missing and had been last seen with the guy across town and that we really needed him to come home.

My friends shared it.  His friends shared it.

He finally got angry and messaged one of his friends and asked her to take it down.

She refused.

The next morning, I got a call from SW Oklahoma saying that he had just been seen.

I knew where he was then.  He was with the dopewhore and had been awake for aproximately two days at that point.

I text and called all day.

No answer.

The next morning, I text and told him that if he didn’t bring home my car I would report it stolen.

I gave him every opportunity to come home.

I still got no answer.

I gave him 24 hours, and then filed a police report.

By now, there had been several sightings of him in Oklahoma.

He had been awake and getting high for around 4 days at this point.

He was going to end up killing himself or someone else.

Once the police report was filed, I called SW Oklahoma and talked to the deputy on duty and explained what was going on.

A few hours later, I got a message from a long time friend that worked in the jail.

He said ”I’m booking in your son.  I’m sorry”

I was driving at the time, and I pulled over and sobbed so hard I couldn’t breathe.

This was the last thing I wanted, but I felt I was given no choice at this point.

I wasn’t going to end 2019 by burying my child.

I can not begin to tell you how my heart broke over this.

You always want bigger and better for your child, and to have to do something like this was destroying me.

He was booked in, and I made calls to everyone instructing them NOT to bail him out.

Had they bailed him out before he came down, he’d just go right back out and start getting high again.

My car was impounded and I didn’t have the money to get it out.  I had put out to much money covering bounced checks he had written while high.

Yes.. I was an enabler to an extent.  At the time, I thought I was helping.

So if I was going to lose my car, I wanted to make damn sure he stayed in there and sobered up.

If he didn’t, it was all for nothing.

I sent his sister down to check on him and bring him clothes.

When she reported back, I asked how mad he was, and even though I expected what she told me, it still hurt.

A week went by, and he had been in contact with his sister a few times.

I told her to let him know that I would set up an account if he wanted to call me ,but if he didn’t, I wouldn’t bother.

She called later and said that he did want to talk to me.

Work was hell on me.  My son and I worked in the same facility, and he was a favorite among our coworkers.

So any time someone asked about him, I would immediately cry.

Just hearing his name would bring tears.

Having to live with what I did, what he did, and where he was, was just tearing me up.

I could barely function.

I can say this, my management and supervisors were very very patient with me.

The counselors that work in my facility offered their services at any time I may need them.

On my days off, I couldn’t even get out of bed.

All I could do was lay there and cry.

Days went by, and one day I answered the phone to a recording saying I was getting a call from an inmate.

When I heard his voice, he said ”Momma??”

and I just started to sob.

By now he was sober, and no longer angry with me.

He understood why I did what I did.

He told me about jail and how much he hated it there.

I didn’t tell him my friend had been giving me updates several times a day thinking it might make me feel a little better.

And it did.  Knowing my people were watching over him.

He said ”I just want to come home and go back to work”

I said ”You’re coming home?” and he said  ”If you’ll let me”

We talked a few times a week after that.

I had gone to his bond hearing, and with me, took 12 friends and family members so he would see that we were all there for him.

Plus if the dopewhore showed up, I needed someone there to keep me from killing her.

I had sobbed through the entire thing.

Seeing my beautiful, intelligent, better than his choices, son in a jumpsuit and handcuffs, just shattered me.

Finally on January 3rd, he was released with two years supervised probation and a five year deferred sentence.

He was clean, and had hated jail so much that he vowed never to end up there again.

There were still issues needed to deal with, but at that moment, everything was good again.

When he got home, I could finally breathe again.

My heart is still broken over having to do it, but I am still convinced that it saved his life.

Not mother of the year, but didn’t have to bury my child either.

I call it a win.