Saturday Morning

This week disappeared quickly. The weather’s been remarkable. Thursday saw a high of 17C in Windsor. Windsor is about five hours from Toronto. It’s in the extreme south-western part of the province. The Detroit River forms the official border there between Canada and the U.S. Here in Mimico, the temperature peaked at 15C, still very unusual for mid-January. Environment Canada predicts colder weather this weekend. Much colder. Minus 12C today.

I worry a bit about Dan getting bored here when he’s alone. Idle hands … I discussed this with Marsha, the counselor we saw at LAMP on Wednesday. She said it was a reasonable concern and suggested a few “social/recreational programmes for Dan.

“What do you like to do, Dan?” she asked him.

He said he liked playing hockey. I’ve never seen him play hockey, Ms J. I didn’t know he could even skate. But if he wants to play hockey, I’ll get him some equipm …

Hang on just a minute. Hockey equipment is very expensive. It’s easy to spend five or six hundred dollars to buy a helmet and all the pads. Easy, that is, if you have five or six hundred dollars. OK, so maybe hockey isn’t what he wants right now. He also told Marsha he liked to play guitar. He didn’t own a guitar yet, but I said nothing.

“Anything else?” she asked him.

“Soccer maybe. Or just listening to music. I like listening to music.”

Marsha suggested maybe he’d enjoy doing volunteer work in the area. She said it’s a great way to make friends and meet new people. He didn’t seem keen on the idea, but he hasn’t ruled it out completely. I’ll make some phone calls. We’ll see.

She said she was impressed with the work we’d done in terms of seeing addiction specialists and setting up appointments with a psychiatrist. When she suggested I contact BREAKAWAY, Dan waved his arm.

“Oh, Dad’s already done that. They’re gonna call us back soon with an appointment.”

“It’s clear you guys are committed to working together on this,” she said. And then she smiled at me and said, “Don’t worry. You’re doing all the right things. You’re a good dad.”

It’s good to hear that, Ms Journal. I think it’s time to move forward again. Today, maybe I’ll take Dan for a ride on the streetcar. It would be good for him to start to feel confident using public transit. It would also allow him to go out for a while without me. I'd have some time to myself.

I miss having my own space here, Ms J. I miss spending time alone. This morning, I got out of bed at 5:45 so I could enjoy some quiet time before The Boy gets up.

Last night, as we watched television together, Dan mentioned that he'd been feeling "edgy" all day.

"How do you mean 'edgy', Dan?"

"I dunno, Dad. Just edgy. You know, like edgy. Like I wanna do something but I don't know what."

"Do you feel that way now, son?" I asked.

"Naw, not so much now. But I don't like feeling that way because when I feel edgy, I always feel like getting high."

I remember feeling that way when I was with Donna. And I remember how we dealt with it. I looked at my son closely.

"Are you high now, Dan?"

"No," he laughed. "I'm not high now. I'm just saying that whenever I feel edgy, I think about getting high, that's all. I was thinking about it today. Thinking about it, Dad. That's all I'm saying."

His blue eyes were clear and he seemed "normal", whatever the hell that means.

I asked if he'd been taking his pills as prescribed. He answered yes.

"OK, Dan. And you're feeling alright now are you? Not so edgy anymore?"

"Yeah, I'm OK now. I'm just telling you how I was feeling today."

I nodded my head and breathed deeply.

"Good, Dan. That's good. I'm proud of you for not getting high when you felt like it."

"There's nothing here to get high on anyway."

"Did you look?"

"No."

Maybe I believe my son, Ms Journal. And maybe I don't. It 's an awful thing you know, when you can't trust someone you love. Last Thursday marked three weeks since the butane incident. I think he's been drug-free that long.