Thursday, December 06, 2007

Shut the Windows First


My information from the detention center in which Joey is incarcerated is three times removed. A friend of a friend told their mother who then called me apologetically wondering if I even wanted to hear this, which I did, that Joey is murderously threatening the guards there.

I don't doubt this one bit, his severe bipolar mood swings prevent any reasoning abilities from appearing for any length of time. He'd written me a beautiful letter that was mostly untrue.

In the nine years that I've known him, very little time has been spent constructively. So did I fail in my parenting? Was it a complete waste of my time? This is where my faith sees me through. I know that I was meant to be his mother, if only to get the word of God in him.

So many adoptive parents live with very dangerous children, facing all the fingers unfairly poined at them and their parenting. Left unsaid, "if you parented him better, then this wouldn't be happening," forgetting the genetic mental illness components. Accusations hurled with great injustice at the only ones who've ever even attempted to love these particular children.

I'm very fortunate in that my constant searching has resulted in a great deal of mental health resources. Even with all the psychiatric help that's been provided though, the very deep, severe mental health diagnoses can't be, and aren't, "curable". That has been the source of my deepest sadness.

I look at Joey's two brothers, now nearly 12 and 14, struggling with their own stuff, very minor in comparison to the severity of Joey's challenges, and their RAD sister who is seemingly without conscience...do I believe I'm divinely guided or not? Duh, yeah I do, this is the path down which I've been led, no one promised PhD candidates to me.

And how bright am I? I'd carefully shut my greenhouse doors last month when our first frost came, only to realize too late I'd not shut the dern windows. The tomato plants shriveled, but oddly enough I'm still getting tomatoes, every time it seems as if I've consumed the last delectable one, another one appears. I think I'm down to the last four tomatoes as I pulled the plants yesterday in anticipation of another challenge and possibility - planting lettuce, radishes and collards directly into the ground that shouldn't ever freeze as the brick walkway absorbs heat, releasing it slowly at night, and anyway those varieties can withstand some very cold temps.

Our wind chill went to 24 degrees last night although the actual temperature only went to 30, it'll be 72 this weekend...how do plants survive the fluctuating excesses of this state?

Grandma is successfully growing broccoli in our drought. I'm telling you it's the woodchips, conserving moisture since watering is out of the question.

Grandpa fixed my beloved wheelbarrow yesterday so today I'll haul wood chips to warm the roots for the winter.

Edgar came by last night, throwing down layers of my fire hot pepper sauce along with Carolina's flaming version, not flinching one bit, speaking to Dr. Mandy who was dealing with JoJo, the tiny me version of Edgar. JoJo has struggled so much emotionally with Edgar moving to town. Edgar had provided JoJo with love and security all his life, thankfully Miriam is still living with us or JoJo's loss behaviors would shoot off into the stratosphere.

Carolina warned Edgar that he'd be hollering, "Mama!" this morning when all the peppers went through his system. Jose's employees were here also, hardly an available parking space out front, still I got the kids to church and back and finally settled down for the night, JoJo snuggling with the puppy that he wrestled from Chuy's grasp. Pet therapy at its best.