Home » A Wasted Life » My Little Boy – Continued – Part One

My Little Boy – Continued – Part One

Things were starting to go from bad to worse.  J***** was in danger of flunking out of school so we sent him to “summer school.”  I took him every morning and picked him up every afternoon.
When one of the coaches called me one day because J***** had been caught off campus with a knife, I realized that he had left as soon as I took him and then was coming back in time for me to pick him up.  I bit my lip and told the coach to just let him go to jail.  He reminded me that he was a minor and they wouldn’t keep him so I went and picked him up.
I begged and pleaded with J***** to do the right thing and he would always promise.  I protected him and hid some of the things he did from Loser.  J***** just didn’t need to suffer Losers’ wrath any more than he had to.
I found out that he and some of his friends were smoking pot and breaking into peoples’ cars.  He would sneak out at night and his sisters would find him passed out on the front porch the next morning but they didn’t tell me.
My jewelry was starting to disappear.  I was bad to take it off and just put it down somewhere so for the longest time, I thought I had just misplaced it and it would eventually turn up.
J***** would take off on his bicycle with the “intentions” of going to go kick the soccer ball or hang out with his friends.  Later, I would get a call from the police because they had found him passed out at a convenience store.  One of the officers was particularly brutal.  When I got J***** up to help him get into the car, he said “that’s right mom.  Take him home and make everything okay.”  He was right, of course.  I was enabling him but I thought there was still hope.  He was a young child.  He was my child.
His drink of choice was Vodka….just like his drunken grandmother.
Loser and I would get into huge fights over J*****.  I wasn’t above blaming his drunken mama for my sons’ alcoholism.  Loser never allowed any responsibility to fall on his side of the family and never shied away from blaming my uncle.
I tried to explain to Loser about first, second and third degree relatives.  It is not always the case, but the huge majority of genes and tendencies that are passed down from generation to generation, come from a first or second degree relative.
My mama and daddy never had a drop of liquor or a beer in their entire lives nor had I.
My daddys’ brother, who was a third degree relative, was a drunk who blamed the world for his woes and eventually drank and drugged himself to death.  I was unmoved when I heard that he had died and figured the world was now a better place but I did not blame him for my sons’ love of alcohol.
I never could get Loser to admit that he, himself was a high-functioning alcoholic and that his mama was the epitome of a true, unapologetic drunk.  With all of his intelligence and “education,” why he could not see that, was beyond my comprehension.  Maybe it was my lack of education that made me not understand his lack of understanding.
I continued to walk around with my blinders on.  I continued to believe J***** when he would lie to me and tell me he wasn’t drinking anymore.  I continued to be a fool….but I was such an accomplished fool.
J***** eventually dropped out of school.  He was so desperately in need of guidance…guidance from a daddy.  It didn’t matter how much I did for him, or how much I protected him  from Loser, or how many times I rescued him…he wanted his daddys’ approval and attention.  The only attention he got was just like B***** said….being yelled at and reduced to the “worthless piece of shit” that Loser would eventually call him.
I knew without a doubt that my grandparents cared about me but I didn’t appreciate it then.  I wanted my mamas’ love and attention.  J***** didn’t care how good I was to him.  He wanted Losers’ love and attention.
J***** was out of control as far as his antics.  He and one of his friends set the back yard on fire.  He started dabbling in cocaine along with the alcohol.  He continued to pass out at convenience stores.
He and one of his friends drove to the beach and were caught for underage drinking and I had to go get him at three o’clock in the morning.  It’s funny, Loser took the call but never offered to go with me.  He just went back to sleep.
I finally started having to hide what little jewelry I had left and it wasn’t much.  As I said, Loser gave wonderful, thoughtful gifts and I could have opened up a small jewelry store with my collection.  I guess J***** took my things to a bar and traded an emerald ring or a ruby bracelet for a beer or a shot.
He even took my wedding rings.
When we moved to C*********, J***** came to live with us.  While he was there, he got his GED.  He worked and played soccer.  Loser bought him a car and I think he really made a concerted effort to stay sober.  Things were looking pretty good for him.
He started going to AA meetings regularly and really enjoyed working.  He decided that he wanted to go to school so he enrolled in the local community college.  He seemed excited about going and I was hoping he would be successful.
One semester, he asked me if I would give him the money for his tuition.  I was glad to.  I was running EMS and I had the money but I reminded him how long I had to work to make that much money.  I didn’t come close to making what Loser did…he probably made more in one minute than what I had to work for a week to make.
I wrote the check to the college and paid the tuition.  The next day, J***** withdrew and got the money back.  That supplied him with booze for a pretty good while, I would imagine.  Of course, I didn’t find out until months later.
After many downfalls and several rehab stints, he finally got sober and remained sober for almost five years.  I was so proud of him and I think he was proud of himself.
I’m not sure what happened but he took a hard nose-dive off the sobriety wagon.  Loser threw him out of the house and he lived in his car for a while.  Once again, that bottle with the trigger was getting closer and closer to being pointed at his head.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s