My eldest son is a brilliant young man. He has an IQ of 140, which I believe is above average. He is an amazingly gifted artist and poet (the image on this blog was drawn by him). Many years ago he became addicted to heroin.

Since birds of a feather do flock together, he became involved with a young woman with the same problem. They both continued to tumble down a rabbit hole thinking it was the way to Wonderland, only to eventually discover it was really the passageway to Hell. They stayed in that hole for many years. They also produced a son, also known as the light of my life. Child Protective Services placed him in my care when he was a tiny baby.

Here are a couple of facts about heroin.

1. Heroin is very expensive.

2. Heroin addiction is not conducive to a the development of a good work ethic.

So, putting two and two together you have probably guessed that they began to employ behaviors such as panhandling and stealing from people (me, for example) to support their nasty habit. As they sank lower and lower into addiction they became more and more desperate. Girlfriend prostituted herself for drugs and money. Son was only too happy to let her. It was very bleak. Heartbreaking for a parent to watch.

Eventually my son was arrested for robbing a restaurant. It was a restaurant that had very obvious security cameras in place so I have to wonder if he was hoping to get caught. Making a cashier believe that a cell phone in his pocket was a gun, he blatantly demanded all the money in the cash register. The security video was immediately handed over to police and my son was arrested. He was eventually sentenced to over 9 years in the state prison. He is currently beginning year 5.

Shortly after my son's arrest Girlfriend died of an overdose. The baby (2 years old at the time of Mommy's death) is being raised in tag team style by my ex-husband and me. He's doing OK. He doesn't even remember his parents.

Being arrested is a fast track to cold turkey. Waiting in a jail cell for a trial date my son went through withdrawal. He was sick. He hallucinated. He was suicidal. He was like an animal. Then he was... better.

After he was convicted of armed robbery and sent to prison I visited him often. I could see a change in him. His eyes were clear. His skin was clear. He looked healthier than at any time since his early teens. He was also allowed to make one 10 minute call (collect) once a week so we stayed in close contact.

The visits were fairly civilized. We sat at a table and talked. We lunched on sandwiches and soda from vending machines. He talked about his plans for the future. He wants to pursue a career as an artist. He writes beautiful poetry and draws accompanying illustrations. I plan to eventually start a website where I will attempt to sell these items so he can pay his restitution to the restaurant he robbed.

Despite strict security measures heroin and other recreational substances are surprisingly easy to get in prison. Unethical visitors bring it in. Unethical prison guards bring it in. Unethical people mail it in from the outside world. I was shocked to discover this. I found out two years ago when son had a dirty UA. As punishment he was moved to a more restrictive environment for 12 months. I was again heart broken.

His new status and new facility had different visitation routines. I sat on one side of a plexiglass window and he was on the other in a cell about the size of a phone booth. There were no telephones. We had to shout at each other to talk. There were many such booths in the room and many shouting inmates and shouting visitors. I refused to visit again until he had served his time in this more restrictive facility. I have also told him I will never again visit him in such a place.

He was moved back into his former facility. I began visiting again. He seemed OK again. But, I worry. Is he OK? Will he jump down the rabbit hole again? Its been several years and so far so good.

He has been writing more poetry. Where it was previously self pitying and dark it is now hopeful (still pretty dark). He said something to me this morning when he called that gave me genuine hope for the future-something he has not said to me in many many years. He said he has moments where he feels genuinely happy-feelings he has not had since he was very young. He feels lucky to be alive. He said he wants to live life to the fullest, he enjoys things again, such as music, art, books, and even food. His drug addiction had long since dulled the pleasure of those simple things.

He said he does not want his last breath to be a sigh of relief.

I think my son is recovering. It is an amazing thing.

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