This is not my son. At least not today. I have looked a few times in the past, wondering if the boy at the stop sign, holding the "please help" cardboard was my son.
Today I know where my son is. He is trying once again to get clean and sober, to start anew one more time. He left our city and moved about 5 hours away. Away from the demons that make his life a mom's worse nightmare.
His baby girl is still here. She is sometimes with the other grandma and sometimes with "mom". Mom is addicted to meth now. She asked my son to leave. I should thank her for that. Except for the fact that she's smoking meth around my granddaughter, she is living in the trailer my son owns, she is smoking meth in the trailer my son owns. We will never be able to sell it. She destroyed it and we will probably have to pay money to demolish the damn thing. It was a very nice trailer worth about $40,000. The other grandma is in such denial.
They won't let us care for the baby or see her. We haven't seen her since November 9th. I've called police. I've called DSPD. I've called attorneys. Without solid proof I am nothing but a meddling grandmother. But soon... I pray, very soon, my son will be stable. He will have control of his life and will be able to care for our beautiful baby girl the way she deserves to be cared for.
As for the stop sign boy in the picture. I ignore him. I don't look at him. I certainly don't give him money. I don't think my few measley dollars will change his life; in fact it might make it worse. What if my $1.00 contributed to a heroin overdose? Am I terrible? Maybe. But after 10 years of addiction and mental illness I know that if this boy wants help, really truly wants help there are places to go for help.