He’s gone

2 May

Last week was a blur. My #1 son became increasingly violent and angry. Pinnacle was an evening in the kitchen with him. He arrived home from “school” at 9:30 and wanted to eat dinner. I informed him that dinner was over and he needed to get to his room. He called me a name, shoulder checked me into the wall and then proceeded to scream at me. I grabbed ahold of him to get him under control and to lower his voice (his brothers were upstairs) and he picked me up and threw me against a corner wall.

As I knelt on my hands and knees trying to regain my breath and fighting tears from the pain spreading across my back and hip. I thought – OK, it doesn’t get better from here. From experience with his father, I know that once it becomes violent it only escalates. I rose to my feet and walked to the front door, opened it and told him he couldn’t stay here any more.

Maybe I overreacted about the dinner – should I have let him eat his dinner and get to bed without a word from me? Probably. The violence turns my stomach because I feel like we (his dad and I) taught him that. We gave him the gift of violence as a child while he watched us fight. I am not proud of this.

He knocked on my bedroom window at 1:30am shivering and asking to come in to sleep. I called his dad to strategize while he stood on the back porch in the rain. Ultimately, I let him in, told him he must stay in his room until I took him to school in the morning. I brought him to school, he walked in the front door and right out the back.

So, today is Monday. I haven’t seen my oldest son since Friday night. I called and reported him as a runaway. I feel guilty for being relieved at his absence. As the days go by – I grow more and more worried. I can only hope that he is uncomfortable enough to come home and try to be a part of this family.

Help me Father.


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