Yesterday I was asked “Do you miss your mom?” Should have been an obvious answer for most, but it was a complicated question for the son of a life-long heroin addict. I guess the answer is of course, but what I really miss is what could have been, and what should have been.
Here is where I resist getting all political and turning this into a rail against how the failing war on drugs ruins more lives than it helps, but if I resist that I can just click the Personal category and have successfully experienced a slight bit of catharsis.
On the bright side though, I guess it was quite the educational upbringing; the low-rent dives, the convict boyfriends, the mountain hide-outs while trying to stay clean, the midnight moves to another state, the prison visits, and so much more all the “normal kids” didn’t get to experience. Heck, I even got to witness the importation of drugs into a state penitentiary using a peanut M&M bag and rubber balloons! A bit more hard-core than sneaking some candy into the movie theater.
The gentle sounds of wind chimes, frogs in the creek, and a lone single-engine plane off in the distance… simply peaceful.