Sunday, October 5, 2008


Ding dong! ding dong! ding dong! ding dong! Snatched from a sound sleep, that sound stikes terror in the hearts of parents in the middle of the night! I shook my husband and got out of bed.

Heart racing, I grabbed my bathrobe and struggled to put it on while I ran to the front door. I couldn't wait for my husband to catch up with me; I just had to go. Oh wait, he wasn't following me. I'm so scared! But I have to know what's on the other side of that door.

I was aware of my heart pounding and the feeling that I couldn't catch my breath. Damn it! Where's my husband? I flipped on the porch light and opened the door. Standing in front of me was my oldest son, backed by two police officers.

Even then he looked like a good boy, albeit a little woosy. The police were polite and explained that he and some friends had been drinking. They were giving him a warning and a ride home. After thanking them and closing the door, I turned to see my husband standing there and my son next to him with half closed eyes.

"Just go to bed!" I screamed.

What the hell was he doing out in the middle of the night? I had always told him that there was no reason to be out that late unless you were looking for trouble.

I remember not too long before that night when saying good night to the boys, Tim would be scared of the foxes you could hear yipping on the hill behind our house. I used to laugh and ask him if he thought they could get in the house. He'd laugh too and answer, "maybe."

1 comment:

Proud Mom said...

I really liked everything you said in your "why". I agree whole-heartedly. Being a parent is tough (I've written about it, too, on my blog) and sometimes I feel like I am drowning from lack of answers or magic potions.

Every situation is different and that's why I try to keep my life private for the most part. Nobody has the perfect advice, only God I suppose. But knowing how to hear Him has been my biggest challenge. For now blogging is the best way for me to vent, too.

I respect your courage to follow through with this plan of action. One day, your son will thank you (if he lives...). My nephew died because he was tormented by events that lead to his demise. I wish everyday I had reached out harder; maybe it would have made a difference.

Nowadays I'm fighting my own beast, in the form of my pre-teen. We've written a contract for him to abide by, yet every day is a struggle.

Meanwhile, I hope that your turmoil will diminish and that your life will return to Shangra-La.