A pit in my stomach

Pain. Hurt. Sad.  Three words that I am feeling today. I am desperately searching to find my joy today. I know it is there, just hiding for the moment.

The phone call didn't start out with Hi Mom, it started out by my son calling me by my name and asking if I knew who it was. Huh. After more than 24 years I am pretty sure I know who is calling. I have also come to know by the sound of his voice when he has been using. He was calling to tell me that he was going to meet with the powers that be at one of the local rehab centers for a job interview and could I please help him with some clothes. A blue button front shirt and some khakis would be great. Well....since there aren't but a spattering of random clothes left in his closet from the numerous times we have packed him off to rehab, the ones he wants do not exist. Oh, but Costco has the blue shirt that he wants and knows full well that I won't get within 5 miles of Costco during the holidays, could I just PayPal him the money. He will then in turn provide me copies of the receipts and then tear the receipts up so that he can't return the clothes for money.  Seriously?! Yeah, no. BIG. FAT. NO.

So he tries a different tactic by changing the subject a little...try to play on my heart strings by asking me why I didn't pick him up from jail the other night. That all he wanted was a warm safe place to spend the night so he could figure out his next step.  After explaining that I could not be a party to enabling his addiction, he proceeded to tell me that because of me not picking him up, that he had to walk from jail back to the police station where he was arrested so he could pick up his belongings and back down town. When I asked him why he walked back down town, he responded with "why do you think?" Because I wouldn't pick him up, he shot up in the bathroom of a McDonald's and woke up a few hours later not knowing where he was or how he got there. Oh, so this is my fault?

Back to the subject of clothes - I told him I would meet him halfway and get him his clothes. No, not good enough, just PayPal the money instead. Again, NO. Absolutely not.  Upon his popping off with the f-word, I ended the call.

As I got in the car to run errands, the song that was playing was one of my favorites. Back in the day it used to be the ringtone that played when my son called. Today, it brought me to tears.

I will find my joy again....just not at this very moment.