Wednesday, May 27, 2009

When It Don't Come Easy

“You're out there walking down a highway
And all of the signs got blown away
Sometimes you wonder if you're walking in the wrong direction.”
--From the song "When It Don't Come Easy" by Patty Griffin

I’m in a funk and have been for a few days now. I do indeed feel like I’m walking in the wrong direction; heading down a highway willy-nilly, with no idea whatsoever of where I’m going. That’s pretty much the same way I’ve felt for a few years now. There is no road map for the trip I’m on. I know that. But that doesn’t make feeling lost any easier.

I won’t bore you with a detailed recap of the entire Memorial Day weekend. I will tell you, though, that Friday was the only day my son got out of bed before the very late afternoon/early evening. And Monday was one of those days where I just shook my head and wondered what the hell just happened.

My head-shaking on Monday was the result of having given my son a little bit of freedom on Sunday night. He asked if he could go to a movie with a few friends of his. My wife and I were a little hesitant, but we thought it would be good for him to get out of the house and do something with friends. Of course, in order to do so he needed money. So we gave him $12.00 and told him that he needed to bring us a ticket stub from the movie. It was a pretty simple request, and one my son agreed to.

Well, you can probably guess what happened on Monday when I asked for the ticket stub. The response was, “It’s in my wallet, but I can’t find my wallet.” Fortunately, while my son was in the shower, my wife found his wallet. Unfortunately, we went through it and there was no ticket stub. When I confronted my son about the missing ticket stub, he said he didn’t know what happened to it. It was in his wallet. He swears it was. (Except that it wasn’t. And it never did turn up.)

This whole incident might sound like a little thing to get worked up about, but when you give money to a recovering addict, you always run the risk that it will trigger illicit behavior. I hope that’s not what happened. And I’d love to believe that the ticket stub from the movie just got lost. But, as I’ve said before, the trust is hard to come by these days.

Someone needs to drive out and find me, because I don't want to feel lost anymore.

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