Where Did I Go Wrong?

Another of my sons, who’ll turn twenty-five next month, has been using heroin again.  Yes, again.  This, too, adds to the turbulence of life these days.  His mother, my ex-wife, and I had a talk with him some years ago about his involvement with the drug, which, I believe, led to erratic behavior that brought on a brief stint in jail.  We thought that taught him a lesson, and he had appeared to learn from his mistake.  He is a very responsible young man, but obviously he veered some.  I feel as though I’ve let him down.

As with everything else over the past twelve or so years everything I’ve experienced with my children- all five of them- has seemed as though done from a distance.  Since the divorce with my second wife I’ve only been able to be “Dad” from a distance.  Yes, now it is because of the one thousand or so miles that separates the closest of my kids, but back then we lived in the same shit-hole of a small town, and when first separated even in the same house.  That house was our dream house at the time, a rambling, shambling one-hundred-ten-year-old heap than needed more work than either of us had ever imagined.  The second floor was divided into two sections- an entire sizable one-bedroom apartment and two additional bedrooms that adjoined our portion by what must’ve been at one time a grand staircase.

When my wife and I first separated I moved my ass upstairs, and we’d even set up an informal “visitation” schedule.  This, like so many other things, eventually crumbled, ending in a messy, lie- and hatred-filled divorce.  But again, for another time.

My son is a hard worker, generally has a good head on his shoulders, and is very active and muscular.  He slipped.  There isn’t much I can do for him from here, one-thousand miles or so south of him.  I’ve learned that he very recently either moved out of, or was evicted from his apartment, and has moved back into the house where his mother lives with her ailing mother.  My ex and I have been in touch recently about his doings, and she’s fed up with having to “babysit” him.  He’s not a child any longer, and in one phone call doesn’t care to stop, in the next wants to but can’t.  I really don’t know what to believe from her at all.  Throughout his school years my son was very athletic and played football and basketball, received a full scholarship to a college he had no interest in attending, and learned a great trade from a caring uncle.  So what happened?

He met and fell in love with a good woman, but recently they parted ways, the details of which I have no knowledge.  They seemed happy, but don’t we all?  As with all phone conversations with my family, I never know if I’m getting the full story.  I love my son and want to help, but feel utterly helpless.  Do we do an intervention?  As my ex says, he has to WANT to stop.  Do we hope he ends up in jail again?  Will that really help him?  I feel horrible about this.

The story of my children is this:  My first wife and I have two beautiful blonde daughters, then I met the woman who would become my second wife, a woman who had two sons by two previous whatevers, and she and I created my youngest son.  Not long after she and I became a couple I legally adopted her two boys, and I’ve been “Dad” to them for most of their lives.  That’s five bright, beautiful adult children of whom I am very, very proud, yet I can only count three among them with whom I currently share a relationship.  Again, more on that later.