My first reaction to this post was the night my AS and DIL were arrested and my granddaughter, then 10 mo. old, was taken into DHS custody. I stayed up all night long cleaning, scrubbing, rearranging, and crying. And OMG seeing him through that glass window for the first time!
As I read your stories, I discovered that there were other times just as scary for me.
Countless nights not knowing where he was or what he was doing and praying that he would come home safely.
His truck had been found wrecked. flipped, totaled. Police were looking for him. When he got someone to bring him home, he was in such bad shape that we had to take him to ER. He had to have stitches all in his head.
Taking him to boot camp and leaving him there with thugs that he didn't need to be around. Crying all the way home.
Listening to my ex-husband tell the probation officer that I was a bad mother who let my children do whatever they wanted and had no disciplinary control over them.
After he and his wife were bailed out of jail and placed in Rehab, a lady from rehab called and he and his wife had walked out.
My dad was in the hospital with a heart attack, critical condition, in the same town where my AS and DIL were living while awaiting sentencing. My mom and I went to their appt. to take showers early one morn. We had trouble getting them to the door. They finally got up and were both in the bathroom when my DIL started screaming hysterically. My AS, then only 20 yrs. old, was in the bathroom floor against the door having seizures. We couldn't get the door open to help. We thought they were staying clean, but they had injected cocain, and his body had a bad reaction to it. We spent the rest of the day in the ER.
Seeing my son for the first time in his prison uniform. Leaving him there that day.
Taking my granddaughter to see her parents and listening to her screaming and crying for 30 minutes on the way home that she wants her mommy and daddy. Walking her and holding her close at nights when she wakes up with nightmares. Hearing her tell me that her mommy sleeps in a playpen. Listening to her cry to go to the store just down the street with her daddy and having to tell her no (b/c he can't be trusted).
It is all a nightmare for me, but I am stronger today because of it. I am not as niave as I used to be, but I still have a long way to go, and I know that due to my AS's condition, I also still have a lot more to go through.