Punky showed up on my front doorstep this morning looking haggard and reeking of alcohol, pot and cigarettes from the night before.
The smell of him made me nauseous. I come from a long line of alcoholics and the combination of odors (sweat, alcohol and cigarettes) bring many unpleasant memories up to the surface and I am faced with dealing with them all over again. Maybe someday I will write about them, who knows?
Anyways, I let him in the house and I noticed that he did not have his back pack with him. All he had with him was a blue bandana filled with coins and tied in a knot like a sack. He sat the sack down and asked if he could use the bathroom. While he was in there I pick up the sack and I guessed that there could be as much as thirty or forty dollars worth of change in his handmade sack.
My first thought was, I wonder if he cleaned out one of the wishing ponds that are located at the mall. He was caught as a teenager with a bunch of friends "fishing" coins out of fountains. Luckily they got caught by a mall cop, he told them to put the money back and if they did he would not call the cops. The only reason I found out was that the mall cop and I went to high school together, and he happened to mention it to me in line at the grocery store. Grr...Thanks for the info. Pete!
When Punky came back into the kitchen he said that we needed to talk. Okay I am thinking that maybe he has some positive news blah, blah...Instead I get emotional blackmail. Yes that is what I am calling it because that is exactly what was said.
P~ "Mom, I hafta go to court on Monday at 8:00am. If you don't let me stay here Sunday night and give me a ride to court I will not go."
Rain~ "What do you mean that you won't go? You must face this and get the help that you need."
P~ "Just what I said. If you don't let me spend the night here on Sunday and take me to court Monday I am just not going to go. I'll make a run for it. It will be like it never happened."
Rain~ "Oh no you don't...Your not a kid anymore, you will only make things worse than things already are. You need help.."
P~ I am not going into rehab mom! I can't be with "those" people...It is the same reason that I won't go to a homeless shelter. I don't need that kind of help."
Rain~" Punky give me a cigarette, I am going to go out back and smoke it."
I take my coffee, go outside and light the cigarette. It tastes so good. Calming. Thoughts are spinning around in my head and I need to sit down. WTF is this boy thinking? He is not a boy, he is a man for chrissakes...Its his decision, his life. It's not my problem. Maybe you should call GP, maybe he can talk some sense into him. At this moment I hear the back door open and close and I watch Punky walking toward me and he starts talking again.
P~ "Mom did I tell you that when I woke up this morning I was in the bushes? Yeah, I don't know how I got there and at first I did not even know where I was. I left my back back in the car of a co-worker and he is not answering his calls so I can't start my new job. I was supposed to be at work at nine this morning. I was so drunk."
Rain~ "What does leaving your backpack in someone's car have to do with you not being able to go to work? Other than the fact that you passed out in some bushes?
P~ "Please mom, I am sick. I don't feel well. Remember when GP took me out and purchased the required clothing for the new job? The clothes were in the backpack that I left in my co workers car. I can't work if I don't have the clothes for the job. I did not drink liquor only beer. I don't drink that much."
Rain~ "Okay, so if I understand you correctly, you have the hangover from hell because you drank? You get no sympathy from me, hang overs are a side effect from drinking beer so deal with it. You said that you don't drink that much however every time that I have seen you face to face since February you have been drunk as a skunk. To top all of that off you left your work clothes in some guys car knowing that you needed them to go to work!"
P~ "Mom! The guy is not answering his phone! If he would answer his phone I could go to work, because he works there and he was my ride! Don'cha understand? He has my clothes."
Rain~ "He is not responsible for your backpack, you are. The only person responsible for you is you. You are a grown assed man, it is time that you start acting that way.
P~ "I really don't feel well. Anyways, can you help me wrap up my change? Oh and I found a Swiss Army Knife in the street, you can have it."
Rain~ "Where did all the change come from? You found this knife in the street?
P~ "The change was in my back pack. From my tips. Look, maybe you could give me a ride to work? Dads here...I think I'll take the change to Coinstar, they only charge 7%."
Rain~ "You want me to take you to work? When? I did not realize that there is a tip jar where you work. Note: I am not clueless. There is no (official) tip jar where he works. I am just sayin.
P~ Dads here, Mom can we leave here? Take me to work okay?
I ended up taking him to the store so he could use the Coinstar Machine. In the sack he had almost $62. I am not going to press the issue with the coins, its really none of my beeswax. On Sunday Punky asked again for permission to spend the night and I let him. Monday morning he was out of the house by the time I got up and that was around 6:30. At this point I really had no way of knowing if he went to court, so I went ahead and started my day.
I kept thinking that I really should try and have a little faith in Punky. After all he is my son and I have to have faith that not all of his morals and values have been swept away with the alcohol and drugs. You really have no idea the inner turmoil this has caused me because in the past I have had certain expectations of him and had them thrown right back at me. I feel bad because I have very little faith in him or his decisions. It pains me every time anyone becomes his cheerleader only to stand by and watch as their hopes are crushed by him. I feel as though I need to "fix" the problems or that I am responsible for their pain. Heaven forbid that I try and warn people about him, then I come off as being judgmental and crass. I sometimes wish that he would give me a reason for hope. I know my "good" son is inside that drunken, drugged up body somewhere if only I could see a little piece of him I would have the hope.
I can't live in "if" or "wish", I know that just sets me up for a huge fall. I have been there many times since Punky was a young teenager. Its not that I have lost hope completely, I am surrounded by family members that have been just exactly where he is right now and have chosen to become sober and changed their lives completely. My mother stopped drinking and doing drugs in 1981. She died six years later. My dad stopped drinking entirely at the age of 53. As a parent I don't want to see him finally get his act together at the age of 50. All I can do at this point is wait for a phone call. Waiting is always the hardest part.
N Posted by Rain at 4/01/2006 11:56:00 PM
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