Just a Few Years Away

Last night Ronke called to remind me that it was Monday.  Monday is the new night for A&E’s Intervention (it’s a train wreck show, which is very appealing to me.  I know some of you are all “it’s wrong!” and “you shouldn’t be broadcasting these surprises on addicts!” to which I say “they agreed to be filmed shooting illegal substances into their veins.  I’m guessing that getting their family into a room to tell them they need to make a change is a little less of an issue.”  Anyway, if you’ve never watched the show you might not know that EVERY SINGLE PERSON whose life is featured has a horrible tragedy occur at some point that drives them to indulge in addictive behavior. 

 The tragedies include:

Divorcing parents who care very little about their children’s futures and very much about their own happiness.

Divorced mommies marrying slime balls because they are lonely and want a man to be around, even if that man molests, attacks or ignores her children.

Pregnancies that are ended prematurely while the grandparents bar the door to make sure it happens.

Psycho religious people beating their children to ‘break their will’. 

Need I continue?

So, essentially these children have messed up home lives.  They usually have siblings who do not become addicts (although at times multiple children have addictions) but are typically enablers in one capacity or another. Obviously the events in their lives are interpreted differently and each of the family members is fulfilling roles that are sad efforts to keep life livable, with the exception of the addict.  They know they will not be living as long, but being messed up means that they can focus on something other than the pain that is coursing through their veins. 

Last night’s episode followed two kids (they were in their 20s, so maybe kid isn’t technically correct, but emotionally, they both had no idea how to be a grown up); one with a drug habit and one with compulsive overeating.  Both had moms who refused to take a stand for their boys against men who were small-minded, ego-maniacal jerks.  Both moms should have left these men to protect their children.  Both moms sucked. Both boys have gaping holes in them because NO ONE has ever demonstrated true love to them. That’s what the intervention is designed to do, but often it falls short.

 This morning, my dad went outside to scrape windows and move his truck when he notices a junior high boy outside a neighbors home without a coat on. No gloves.  No hat.  It was two degrees outside with a windchill of minus eight. The kid was just standing there, without any clue as to what he should do next.

As my dad closed the distance to him, he shrugged out of his top coat (he had two on) and took off his gloves. Handing them to the boy, he started to ask him questions about what was going on.  As it would turn out, he had been arguing with his step-dad on the way to school about wanting to walk there. The step-dad went berserk when the kid demanded the cell phone to call his mom. Not wanting to stay in the car with Mr. Freak Out, the kid goes to get out of the car.  Mr. FO grabs the kid’s coat and in the fray, it comes off the kid.  Angrier than ever, Mr. FO punches the kid.  He’s not a small kid and he could probably lay into Mr. FO if he spent a little time at the dojo, but he manages to get away. 

Of course, the problem with getting away is that he is coat-less.  He is two miles from school.  His backpack is with his coat.  He is freezing, confused and doesn’t know where to turn. 

Rick walks him back to our house and convinces him that he can’t walk to school.  He tells him about when he dealt with frostbitten people while he was on the fire department and he attempts to help the kid figure out a good plan.  The kid doesn’t really want to do what Rick suggests so he calls his mom (who Mr. FO is taking to work in spite of the fact that her flesh and blood is somewhere outside, coat-less in the elements) and tells her what happened.  She tells him to go home and wait for Mr. FO who will take him to school.  Awesome.  Mom of the Year, right? 

Rick drove the kid back over to his house and they sat in the pickup while they waited for Mr. FO who appeared embarrassed by it all when he got back. He should be.  He should also have to get clocked by someone bigger than him and be forced to stand out in the freezing cold for a half hour or so without his coat on. 

There’s no happy ending to this story.  There probably won’t ever be one, of course. He’ll spend his life trying to overcome the fact that the people who were supposed to love and protect him cared too much about themselves and gave him very little regard.  His real dad had a drug problem and left when he was a baby.  Mom is getting some crappy need met through Mr. FO at the expense of her son’s well being.  I figure they’ll need an intervention within the next five years. It might not be food.  It might not be drugs.  But he’ll find something to get him through his daily dose of hell.

He’s got our phone number and he knows that this house is safe. I hope he makes his way here again.  I hope he can find the strength to reach out to other people in spite of the wounds that others have left.  I hope. And I pray.