Jail break

He realized even his most heartfelt pleas would not alter our stand, so Edward sought desperate measures and called his dad.  My ex.  There are really not enough pages, time or desire to delve into that one.  He, my ex, would have the opportunity to be his son's hero.  See, they had a fractured relationship because at the beginning of our divorce he lived with his father for a year.  During this time, Edward felt neglected and abused...verbally.  He also got abused once physically which led to a police report and CPS investigation.  His dad, wanting to be the hero, wants me to financially support his cape and magic powers.  I explained we were not bailing him out and why...and tried to explain why my paying for HIM to bail him out was the same as me bailing him out.  Couldn't I put up the collateral?  Um, no.   I suggested that bailing him out wasn't helping him, but enabling him; but the urge to be hero is strong and I get it...he wanted a relationship again with his son.  So he bailed him out...with conditions.  With him, there are ALWAYS conditions.  Edward would move in with him.  He cut Edward's hair, changed Edward's wardrobe, got Edward a car, showed him off showing what a great dad he was.  Disneyland dad to the rescue.  

Sometimes when you stand, you stand alone

We were not walking through this just being "jerks".  We talked with people who loved us well and asked counsel.  But, there are those who disagreed.  Family.  And we were told how they couldn't believe that we would leave him there, no matter how we tried to explain.  We stood alone, but not alone at all.  I believed we loved him well.  And there was never a moment that "I love you too much" didn't preface every heartbreaking word after it.     

When the phone rings

One of the worst sounds in the world?  The phone call in the middle of the night.  It's never good.  We are lulled into the flow of daily dysfunction and getting by.  Did I mention in the middle of our insanity, I started a new job at a private school?  More on that later.  We got that middle of the night phone call.  Edward had come home late...and lit.  Apparently his car alarm went off and he couldn't figure out how to turn it off.  The cops came by and got the alarm off.  Because he was in front of his own home, they were gracious enough and told him to go inside and not come back out anymore.  Maybe pot makes you deaf...or just stupid.  He went back out to his car to smoke.  And got busted.  And was arrested.  The phone call was from jail.  One day...someday...it won't hurt to relive this.  His one phone call. The results were vastly different though.  There would be no bailing out.  No rescuing from the consequences.  We did go down there and see him.  UP jail is cush...they serve you Bubbas for crying out loud...that's not a punishment, that's a treat.  We talked to the officer.  Talked to a tearful Edward.  But, even the tears couldn't bring ransom.  The phrase I repeated, "I love you too much to not let you experience the consequences of your choices."  Let me tell you, it was not received with the intent that it was sent.  HARDEST THING I HAVE EVER DONE.  The phone rang many times with pleadings to get him out before he was transfered to a not so nice playground with not so nice people.  Please, Lord...PLEASE, let THIS be his bottom.  But my phrase repeated over and over with nothing but love in my heart for this boy that this tough lesson would be learned.