Letting them go...

by Murphy , Friday, January 31, 2014, 19:54 (3954 days ago) @ Otony
edited by Murphy, Friday, January 31, 2014, 20:01

Less than 3 hours ago, I had to do one the hardest things I've ever had to do.

8 years ago, I began a friendship with a young man I found in the court system. I knew if I could help him get turned around he'd make it. Sadly, He's bipolar and had been 'self medicating' for years.

As our journey began, he had to learn some things the hard way. Other times, he learned to trust and listen to the 'old man'. He got clean & sober, and became a productive member of society again. He became the son I never had and one of the few I allow inside my inner circle. Over years I've been his best man and many other things to him. A son was born to him who has become like a grandson to me.

This past summer, he and his wife began riverting to old ways. Back in August, he and his wife busted up and in September he tried taking his own life via overdose. His illness and addictions were taking him back. I did everything in my power in getting him to a facility, held on and prayed. Needless to say, he left the treatment facility and decided he didn't need them. He bounced from one place to the next for a place to stay.

4 years ago the opportunity to buy the house across the street from us came up and we purchased it. For 3 years we rented to one of my wifes friends. Little did we know she was a hoarder and the place became a nightmare. Finally the wife put her foot down to the ever growing piles around the house, said 'friend' decided to move. So, the house sat empty and up for sale for 8-9 months. We had one good 'bite' and the man put up earnest money. Unfortunately that fell through.

My friend (T.J) seemed to be doing some better and had a new gal in his life with two adorable little girls. To make a long story short we rented it to them. 3 weeks later they are no longer in 'love' and out she goes. T.J.'s decline began to worsen. One particular night pretty much about did me in. Loud music (to which he had already been told no 'bumming' the place with music), loud vehicles coming and going etc. The next day I had a serious and stern talk with him. It seemed to have worked and the place has stayed quiet.

Monday night about 10:30 T.J. called me from the local jail. I could tell he was under the influence and not making a lot of sense. He'd been arrested for burglarizing a vehicle and caught red handed by the police. I spoke to the arresting officer and T.J. was being held until they could take him before a judge the next morning.

Tuesday morning I got into my work truck and drove the short 1.5 miles to work. My old Ford has a split bench seat and I tuck various odd's and ends behind it. I was reaching for a pack of cigarettes and they were gone. Also, a spare shotgun barrel I kept back there was in my way. Something was wrong, very wrong. I dug a little deeper for a K frame .38 I keep in a hidey hole I can reach very quickly if the need arises, it was gone. My heart sank as I began thinking the worse.

I made arrangements for his former wife to pick up T.J.'s dog that was in the house. I met her at noon on my lunch break to let her in. And there on a speaker sat my holster. On the fireplace mantel, there sat my carton of cigarettes and the spare 'hidden' key to my Ford. Only he and one other person knew where that key stays hidden. And that person was home sick in bed and had been for 2 days.

Tuesday I was working just up the street from the local jail. I looked up and saw T.J. coming. His Ex had sprung from jail somehow. He began to speak and I lifted my hand as in 'stop'. "T.J., where is my gun?" He of course denied knowing anything about it. I told him 'One more time, where is my gun?'. He started off with some story and I didn't let him get 5 words out before I spoke. T.J. we're done...now git! I was angry and hurt, very hurt.

So this evening just after getting home from work, I walked over and knocked on his door. He came to the door and stepped out onto the porch at my request (he had company who didn't need to see or hear this, young ones).

I told him he had to be out of the house by Sunday evening. He knew and understood this was coming, he knows me well. I didn't bring up the gun, no need to...he knows I know the truth. His eyes filled with tears as he apologized and told me how sorry he was. I'll admit it, mine filled with tears as well. I reached up to hug and hold him one more time as we cried together. I told him I don't hate you son, I'll always love you. You're sick and I can't do anything more for you, but you must go now. I am deeply hurt because I can always get more 'stuff', best friends...I can't.

I have turned him over to God now, there is nothing left I can humanly do. And tomorrow will be no easier as I go to the local police department and file a stolen gun report. Friends, please send up some prayers for T.J.

Me? I'll be okay, just got some grieving to do for awhile.

Murphy