I Got Robbed!

     When I wrote the last blog, I thought I remembered my last memory before my Mom was on her way to prison.  However, this memory slapped me in the brain when I was driving home from an appointment.

     I am not sure if my Mom came back one more time after her stint in rehab or if it was the next year.  I just cannot remember, and I cannot remember which scenarios can exactly put "two-n-two" together.  However, I can remember this particular time that sticks out well, and why I am so protective of my things that I worked hard for and paid for myself.....

     This time when she was home, she knew a trucker.  He was a nice guy.  He was an older man, not anything special; he was just a plain guy that drove rigs.  She did mention one time that she knew him because she has gotten rides from him before.  

     She stayed with us for a little while. I remember taking her to the Alpena Mall to walk her around; the funny thing about this adventure to the great mall (it is actually a tiny mall with about 10 stores 😁) is that I wanted to be seen with her. I wanted someone to see me with my Mom.  I was only known for living with my Grandparents, so I wanted people to know I had a Mom.  I actually thought my Mom was so beautiful.  I wanted people to see my beautiful Mom. Even though a few of her teeth were starting to fall out. There were no people my age that day at the mall.  I didn't get the chance to show her off.  On that visit, she actually got her hair cut also.  She got a crazy haircut; it was what was "in" in the 90s. I think it was an asymmetrical haircut, short and spiky on one side and then got longer as it went around the head.  

     After staying with us for a little while,  she went and lived with the trucker for a little while.  She had a way to seduce and use men who were not real "lookers" and not rich, just ordinary men who worked hard for their money.  She could get these men to give her stuff.  The trucker is one of those guys, basically a good-guy from what I know.  He had his own house, so that was a good thing....right?  She probably got some money from him to get whatever she wanted or needed.  I remember at one time during this visit home, she came back to the house to get a few bags (trash bags) of clothes, and then she was gone. 

     When I looked in my closet later, I noticed that she loaded that trash bag with my clothes!  She filled it with my jeans,  shirts, and sweaters! And then I found that she stole my good boots that were expensive! Expensive for me because I had to work hard for them.  I was pissed!  I was robbed by my damn Mom! It really pissed me off because I worked so hard over the summer to buy those clothes, and I loved those boots!

    To this day, if someone takes anything that is mine without me giving it to them, or if they ruin something that is mine that I worked hard for and earned, I will have a really hard time trusting them again.  

      

What Happened Next?

      What happened next?  The day after I noticed her hands shaking in the bathroom?  My Aunt Angie, her husband Tim, and their daughter came over.  I want to say it was late afternoon because it was still daylight outside and at the time of the year the sun would go down pretty early.  

      My Grandpa had this God-awful looking chair that I think may have been a rocking recliner. The color of the chair was sorta a baby pea puke color with a hint of gold in the stitching of the material. My Grandma put out a nice spread of things to eat.  My Aunt Angie was making a plate for herself and her daughter around the table and my Mom was sitting in my Grandpa's chair (please make a note....not too many people were allowed to sit in his chair).  Everyone was getting some food and my Grandma asked my Mom if she was going to get something to eat.  My Mom says she wasn't feeling too well so she wasn't going to eat anything at that time.  Before you know it, you hear a whoomp! My Mom actually fell over in the chair, she laid on the floor still sitting in the chair however, the back of the chair was on the floor and her legs were facing the ceiling.  

     We rushed her to the ER in Alpena.  They took my Mom back and the only thing I could remember hearing was that the nurse was trying to find a vein due to my Mom's veins in her arms were actually calloused overdue to the drug use.  They needed to find the vein or a good vein because  she needed to be rehydrated and possibly something else to lessen the side effects of withdrawal.  I think this is when she found out that she, or maybe more like “we” her family found out that she was infected with Hepatitis C.  When you look up how a person gets Hep C., basically it is like AIDS, most common transmittal of the disease is from sharing needles or from unprotected sex, & at that time there was not a medicine to cure or reduce the affects of the disease.  Basically a person will eventually die.  

     I don't remember if she came home or if she went directly to a rehab home in Traverse City.  I do know she went to rehab first and then onto a half-way house to assist with  transitioning  her from drug use to a "normal" life without drugs and maybe how to be a successful productive sober member of society.   The house did have a curfew and there were rules and regulations that needed to be abided by.  I don't remember visiting when she was in the rehab home however, she was successful in completing the entire rehab.  I do remember visiting her a couple of times while she was at the half-way house.  She did make a friend of a young girl that was just a year or two out of high school. I remember this because when I went to visit my Grandma brought up to my Mom that I was asked to go to prom.  The girl said that she had a prom gown I could borrow because she had just worn it a few years ago to her prom.  (please see the previous post about this memory and myself going to prom 😉)

     I believe my Mom was actually kicked out of the halfway house because she left when she was not supposed to. Basically, there is only one-strike-and-your-out bylaws.  She didn't come home after this occasion because the next time I remember hearing from her was when she was back in Phoenix.  After this occasion, there were not any real visits with my Mom for a few years.  The same ol' phone calls, a few collect calls from a penitentiary and then a couple from Prison in Arizona.  The prison was actually outside of Phoenix.  I know it was past the Good Year area but cannot remember exactly where.  

     With all of the different stints in jails over the years, I guess finally caught up to her and she was prisoned for 2-3 years (can't remember the actual sentence) for breaking her parole.