FLASHBACK

My youngest son, the daddy of the rug-rats, showed up at my house yesterday afternoon with a couple of friends in tow. He was coming to invite me to a BBQ supper to be held at his friend’s house, and I decided to attend. It was a nice evening, except....

There was a man among the group – a friend of a friend – and all it took was one look at him to bring a rush of bad, bad memories crashing back. He was there with his family – his girlfriend, his 9 month old son, and her 7 year old daughter from a previous relationship. That didn’t stop him from becoming intoxicated and making a complete ass of himself. Not a funny ‘ha-ha’ ass; a surly, moody, smack on the head ass. It only took one glance to know that he wasn’t only into the booze. He was using cocaine to keep himself from falling over, and succeeded in making his attitude even more intolerable.

My son and I avoided him as much as we could, but he was, of course, in everybody’s face. His girlfriend took the baby and left for home shortly after eating; the little girl was sleeping over at the host’s house with his daughter, who is her playmate. Not long after his girlfriend’s departure, this idiot jumped into his truck and, in spite of people trying to convince him not to drive, tore out of the yard, tires squealing. There is nothing one can do to stop a man in that mental state, except call the cops, which his friends were reluctant to do. Well aware of this, I sent up a silent prayer that he would make it home safe – not for him, but for the unsuspecting other drivers he would be meeting on the road.

His girlfriend was not so reluctant. When he arrived home and started his violence, she did call the authorities and he was carted off to jail. Thank You for a swift answer to that prayer! And thank you to the hosts for refusing to let the little girl go home with him. The look in that child’s eyes when she heard it being discussed tells me that this is not the first time it has happened. I felt a hot rage start from my toes and completely engulf me. I needed to leave. My son had his own vehicle. He knew what I was feeling, so told me he would be along shortly and hugged me goodbye.

It’s been two years since I lost my closest friend, a wonderful (when sober) man I loved deeply, to that nasty combination of intoxicating substances. Trying everything in my power to help him, I lived moments of pure hell before I finally gave up the fight. The booze and drugs won. In his case, they are still winning. In my case, it has taken most of those two years to dig myself out of the dark, emotional hole it created inside. Having a natural positive nature helped, and the strength of warm and caring family and friends did the rest, but that scene last night woke some ghosts.

Once home, I went for a long stroll with the doggies. Under a star-filled sky, I inhaled the fresh air and the quiet calm of the bush. I was already more relaxed when my son showed up, offering additional support, and we sat and chatted until the wee hours of the morning. By the time I went to bed, things were again okay in my personal world.

Remembering that it was all behind me now, we were on our way back up, I SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec