Car Crash

I smashed my car into someone’s house.  
It happened when I was out on a Mad Mother Mission:  “Collect T1 from his bolt hole, and deliver him to school."  
Objectives of the Mission: 1.     make myself known to the mother of the house2.     be clear that MY son whom she was housing at night has a loving family, anxious about his actions and whereabouts3.     establish a bond with the mother: only by working together can we support our sons to make the right choices4.     ensure my values and expectations around education, respect and boundaries were clear to her so she understood my concern at her having my son without my knowledge or permission5.     seek agreement that we will support each other to enforce clear expectations whatever that means for each of us individually
If 1-5 are like talking Russian to her, then, move to other tactics:6.     shout, scream and yell at the (stupid bloody) parent for not once thinking to contact me whilst I have been up in the night going nuts7.     followed by a physical beating of the parent about the head for contributing to my anxiety and being so frigging STUPID And/or:
8.     be mindful that we are each spiritual beings, on our own journey, working through our own life purpose, and convey a gentle, caring, respectful concern for the other mother who undoubtedly has challenges of her own.
Background: I was in a state.  T1 was treating home like a serviced boarding house, had escalated his abuse to his brothers and me, been out on all night benders, and attended school mid-term exams in body only.  
Motivation: While I am up pacing the house at 2am, someone out there, some parent, some adult had to know that my son was in their house, and yet had no compunction to contact me.  I was angry.  Sleep deprived.  And instead of boxing shadows – I was in Action Mode to Change the World.
Situation: rain, sleet, wind.  T1 hadn’t come home the night before, a school night.  Through a process of intensive investigation to find addresses of his mates (more on filling in your knowledge gaps in upcoming posts) and elimination (I knew he’d be at one of two bolt holes), I decided to go to the house in question and get him out of there.  I texted the mother who was at work, and she replied that she was sure he wasn’t at the house.  My intuition told me that she had no idea, and, of course he was at her place.
Operation: I pull up at the house.  T1’s bike is leaning against the wall.  There’s no parking out front just a car pad at the front entrance.  No sign of life, no lights on.  My heart starts thumping.  If I knock, he might run.  So I should just walk in.  Heart thumps harder – can I just do that?  Walk in to someone’s house?  How will I get him into the car quickly?  I decide to park on the car pad.  I’m shaking.  The house is unkept, falling apart, ripped curtains and blankets over the windows.  A sad house.  For a split second, I find myself thinking about organizing a working group of the boys to help clean the place up. STOP – I haven’t got time for compassion and all that stuff.  I reverse onto the car pad and  - SMASH.  Straight into the corner of the house!!!  
I wait for a heavy-set man to come out armed with a baseball bat and take to the car and me.  Nothing. 
Breathing deeply, I ease out of the car and take the six short steps to the door.  I breathe again.  I open the door.  Walk in.  Turn left.  A filthy, unkept room, ashtrays overflowing onto the floor, empty bottles, ripped couches, water damaged walls, rubbish everywhere.  A smell that is the smell of poverty, depression and hopelessness.  I’ll never forget it.
And there, on the couch, is my beautiful 14 year old boy, body slumped, pale faced, a rash of angry pimples postulating on his handsome face, eyes baggy and dull, but widening in shock to see me.
“What the fuck….”, he says.  And my heart stills, I shed unseen tears, my soul cries out in witness to his pain - and I have never been so glad to see him as in that very moment.
I wonder if the residents or owners ever look at the corner of their house and wonder how a 30cm chunk of weatherboard had come off it.  I know I will look at my car’s rear fender and be reminded of that unfortunate incident, every day.
My son has been gone all day today; he's possibly back at that same place.  It has a je ne sais quoi about it for him.  I hope he gets in tonight before 2am.  I’m so tired, if I go looking for him tonight, my motor skills (yep, pun, too tired to think of something else) are such that I’d probably drive straight through the door into the front room this time. 
Wishing you a deep and peaceful sleep.