My son left our home over a month ago to live on the streets. Today I had lunch with him, the first time I was with him in a few weeks. Before we met I was really excited about it, usually I am apprehensive, but today I was just happy to spend time with him, even if his fingernails are dirty, his clothes are smelly and his hair is dull.
We had agreed beforehand to meet at a specific place at a specific time. One hour before we were supposed to meet I received a text message from him that he was safe, and in a town about five miles from where we planned to meet. Since the text did not come from his phone, I sent one back immediately reminding him of the time and place we were planning to meet. He sent a text back that he could not get there in time, I text for him to call me.
He could have easily blown me off, but I did not want that to happen and told him I would come to where he was and pick him up. We agreed to meet in a grocery store parking lot at noon. The minute he opened the car door and said hello it was great to see him, even if he did smell. I promised myself I would not say anything derogatory or judgmental.
The highlights for me of our time together was my ability to respect him and what he was doing even if I did not approve. Not judging and learning how to listen. Catching myself when I would fall into old patterns, which is so easy to do.
Then we had to decide where to go, but due to his state of appearance it makes it very difficult to go into a restaurant and have a leisurely lunch. He likes sushi and so do I, so we went to the local market, picked up sushi to go for a picnic. I brought the dog so we went to a park where we could all “be off our leashes”. I did notice how people stared at him in the market, which made me sad due to his state of un-cleanliness.
The conversation at lunch was good. We talked about what it was like living on the street, who the people were he lived with, what he planned to do in the future and what would have to change to get there. I worked hard at listening, trying to be supportive, not going deep and not getting caught up in any one comment he made. I also did not want to focus all the attention on him and tried to find other subjects to talk about.
We were together for about 90 minutes, I drove him back to where I picked him up, he saw two of his buddies walking down the path, I gave him a hug and told him I loved him, twice. Like I said in the beginning he could have easily cancelled but I do feel that he still wants to be connected. I really do love that kid.
Here is a message of hope I received from a very wise friend Dore:
“We all have expectations and dreams for our kids – and we get sad when our dreams are not coming true. We have to change to what is happening rather than hanging on to what we wanted to happen. Our kids paths are not our paths and we have to let them travel .”
Now I have tears in my eyes.
Dore Frances frequently offers helpful advice to many of the readers on Troubled Teen Blog, you will see her supportive comments on posts throughout the site. Professionally she is an educational consultant at Horizon Family Solutions. It is her own personal story with her daughter that is so compelling, please read on …
My Daughter Age 15
This short article is a compelling “readers digest” version of my daughter’s personal story. I was so very grateful to the powers that be that her father and I recognized just in time that her life needed to be saved. My daughter had just turned 15, and she had good intentions for her life, however her priorities were poorly focused and she was slipping away from us.
She was drinking, had an eating disorder and was using drugs. And she had an attitude that had developed which greatly interfered with her academics.
There were many steps that were taken in our local community with group therapy, family therapy, individual therapy, summer camps, and even having her spend time with relatives during the summer in other states. We were engaged in doing all we could to turn her life around. As an advocate for at-risk kids at the time, I was holding out hope, just like every parent that I assisted, that we could create the right atmosphere and opportunity for her to change her situation. There was a defining moment, like there is for every parent, in which we knew she needed more help than we could provide. My former husband and I had been divorced for 7 years, and worked very hard at co-parenting; this decision was heartbreaking for both of us.
We called an associate of mine who was an educational consultant.
In a matter of 3 weeks a residential boarding school had been chosen, papers signed, and arrangements made for us to take her on February 10, 2001. I remember that date as surely as I remember the day she was born. We did not tell our daughter about “the plan” until the night before. She cried, we cried, and then we came to find out a week after she was in treatment that she had known something was up and was preparing. She had made a suicide pact with her best friend to be executed on March 1st. The night before we were to fly out I sat up in bed with my clothes on, the covers pulled up to my neck. Even though our daughter was not a run risk, it was a fear I had that she would take off during the night, and I wanted to be prepared.
At 4am I woke her to get dressed so her dad could drive us to the airport. Just she and I were making this journey. It was dark outside when her dad drove up. I kept waiting for a miracle to happen. I kept hoping my daughter would ask not to go.
Many kids do – she didn’t. At the airport her dad cried and gave her a hug and asked her not to worry, that she was going to be in good hands, and she would be safe.
In a confident manner she said “I will be fine dad.” We boarded the plane and had to have a small layover and change planes. I asked her if she wanted to call her dad, and she said no, she was hungry. She ate, I did all I could not to vomit, as my stomach was in my throat. We boarded the next plane, arrived at the rental car, and off we went. We had a 2 hour drive and I wanted it to last all day.
As we approached the turnoff from the freeway it was about lunch time and there was a Red Lobster, her favorite restaurant. I asked if she wanted to have lunch, still delaying as much as I could. “No”, she said, “let’s just get there.” As we drove through town to our location, I just wanted so badly to turn the car around, go home, and hope she had “learned her lesson”. Yet, I knew, my daughter was in need of help and a “threat” of “look at what could happen” was not going to work. Threats are just lies and they never work. Kids are smart enough to figure that out.
Fast forward, nine years later
My daughter is now 24, living on her own in a state she loves, going to school and working. She has taken herself to therapy twice over the years, as she has learned how to ask for help and knows it is okay. She created a relationship with her dad that works and one with me that works. We all live in different states now and she visits us each separately. I do not speak with my former husband any longer.
We have what now works for us and none of us have any regrets that we took those most difficult steps and engaged in some of the hardest work we had ever done as individuals and as a family.
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