It’s fitting, and amusing really, that my mate was the one to call her My Ward first.
It was probably a month ago now when I was chatting to my mate on facebook and gave a worried update when he said, “well of course you can’t calm down, your ward is in distress!”
I love how he gets me.
So. That time, she called me from Stockton. She was wandering the streets with all her worldly possessions, completely strung out, and lost in suburban hell. She shouted down no less than 3 different people in the 15 minutes I was on the phone with her that time, trying to figure out where she was. Instead when she called back a hour later, in the truck of some random dude who she won’t tell me where their going, she winds up in Modesto. Stockton is a hour and a half away, Modesto about 2.
It was a few days later when she called me a wreck from the detox center that she finally came home. Got her set on her EBT, made her an appointment for a rehab center to start, and then her mother got involved. For the record, I’m in my late 30s, her mother just turned 40. It’s not far off to say that I’m really My Ward’s mom. Funny story actually…
So last year, when I first met her and she was still functional, my ward came over to just hang out and watch movies. I needed snacks, so we ventured down to the the local corner store. I frequent this place, so when I show up with her and say I’m paying, the owner of the store who’s a nice 40-something Mexican man asks if she’s my daughter. I laugh and say no, she’s just a friend as my ward comes sauntering up. “Oh,” she snaps and then smiles at me, “did he just ask if I’m your girlfriend?”
I laugh and shake my head while I’m sliding my card to pay and he’s trying to disappear. “No,” I giggle, “daughter, actually,” I replied, to deflate her balloon.
My ward got all pouty right on the spot, much to the owner’s amusement, and then in very teenager ‘tude, flipped her hair and rolled her eyes, “well, whatever…” I smiled at the owner, who smirked at me, and then we headed off after I signed stuff off. I love that kid, really I do, but I can’t force her into treatment. I don’t have the resources for that. Oh to be rich and be able to just make such things happen. It’s not often that I care, I wish I could do more for the ones that I do care about.
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