We sought advice and counsel from our neighbor who's a retired police officer and a licensed private investigator. He was (as he always is) incredibly kind, thoughtful in his responses and gave us some great ideas. I feel like we have a plan and we know what to do next. And once we've done those things that we CAN DO, everything after that isn't about us.
It feels so much better to feel 'empowered' a smidge - and a huge part of that is realizing that there isn't much we can do, really. H. knows how to reach us. He likely knows about homeless shelters, places he can go for a warm meal. Are we upset and sad that he needs those things because the stories he's crafted the past seven months are all lies? Yes, it's hard and upsetting. But really, he has the ability to do what he needs to do for himself and nothing we do or say can really add to that at this point.
One of the challenges this past week is in our efforts to confirm H.'s well being, we've had to ponder the question 'and what will we do if/when we talk to him?'. Because we sure as heck aren't going to send him a ton of money (for any reason - we will send absolutely no money anywhere) and we aren't going to fly there to 'get him'. Our helping him will be in the realm of 'here is a location of a shelter and here are some places that do detox and rehab programs for drugs.
Our law enforcement friend warned us of possible future events which might include someone calling insisting that H. is in grave/mortal danger unless someone sends money somewhere - in our neighbor's experience, the ratcheting up of the games used to get funds for drugs occurs when someone realizes their family is no longer responding to the requests for money. Or help.
As we walked back into our house, we noticed what a beautiful day it is here. Crystal clear blue skies, temperature comfortable, little to no breeze. Perfect for yard work. And there's plenty of that 'cuz I've barely been in the yard for over a month.
There's always stuff around the homestead to do - and digging in and doing it feels right when it's a wise distraction from feelings of fear, loss, sadness, worry. None of those emotions we've been channeling for the past few days make any difference - and while we feel them because we love our son deeply and are very concerned for his well being - it's a complete waste of energy to keep doing that to ourselves.
I don't know what the future brings. I don't know if things will be good or horribly bad. And setting ourselves up for repeated weeks like this last one - of pensively praying we find out he's OK - of course we want to know he is OK - will we be pensively living for the rest of our lives? Waiting for any word about his status only to then return to the pensively fretting and worrying over and over?
No. I'm giving that up as of this moment. Loving him and caring about him is a constant thing - always has been and always will be. But fretting about him over and over - feels manipulative - feels sad - and leads to pensively living. And I don't want to do that anymore.
It's incredibly hard to realize that for seven months, your son has said all the right things, implied he's doing all the right things - and all of it was a flat out lie. All of it. Every shared observation of living in someone else's home; every report of a family meeting about issues that come up, living with a baby (his friend M.'s daughter who turned one a couple weeks ago), looking for and getting a new job....those conversations and events never happened. Only in H.'s head - and only to us when he told us how things were going. The sheer volume, the mind-boggling details that he carries forward to the next live conversation. His ability to create an alternate reality is impressive - and a bit scary.
J. and I are in the last third of our lives - and we are blessed to be living where we live and blessed to spend our time doing whatever we want to do at this point. Even laundry seems more 'fulfilling' today realizing that it's our time to LIVE. Not sitting around waiting for (yet another) shoe to drop. Not sitting around praying for confirmation of safety only to then have to start the wait for the next confirmation immediately after - the overwhelming emotions with every wait period.
If H. gets in touch, we will be grateful to talk to him and know he is OK. If he doesn't get in touch, I am hereby declaring that I'm stepping off the constant fretting and worrying merry-go-round and moving forward with living.
I pray for him nightly and will always do that. Love him with my whole heart and will always do that. But his choices aren't going to steal my happiness anymore. I'm done. Really. Done.
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