There are allot of things I thought I would never do-picking my cousin up from jail is one of them.  But that is exactly what I did yesterday. I threw on some clothes, pulled my hair into a messy ponytail and in an effort to save time grabbed my glasses instead of putting on my contacts.  I got there quickly and anxiously waited for him to walk through the big brown door. As I stood there alone my mind was racing and 22 years of memories were running through my head. How did this happen???  He has been through allot-but he has made it and never-not once- has he been alone. His parents have sacrificed to give him a great education, a great life and yet he chose to walk  away from that and straight into a dead end life.

He is a cancer survivor. At 10 he was diagnosed with a rare form on childhood leukemia. He had the best doctors and even then they told us he would be lucky to see 16. We spent years watching him go in and out of the hospital, praying that he would make it through.  When we got the news that his cancer was in remission-it literally seemed like a dream come true.  We have celebrated every milestone with him, knowing full well how lucky he (and we) were to have a second chance at life.

And then something changed-his joy for life turned into a deep anger and resentment. He moved away from home and turned away from everyone. We all tried to reach out but no one could get through. A couple years passed and finally  last month-we had a break through-he moved back home with his parents. He enrolled in school again was looking for a job. We all thought the worst was behind us till I got the call late Saturday night.

I was home with my Grandma, just relaxing on the couch as she knitted a blanket. We were talking and laughing just enjoying our time alone. The rest of the family was at a birthday party which we had opted not to attend. The phone rang and judging by the late hour, I figured someone was calling for a ride home.

As soon as I heard the words “you have a collect call” my blood ran cold, I knew then that no matter who it was calling-it was not a good deal. After briefly speaking with him, I had the awful task of informing his parents. Now I know that is not as dramatic or horrible as telling someone their kid is injured or worse yet dead but still it was a horrible call for me to make and I can only imagine how his parent felt. His mother was understandablyangry and deeply saddened and his father was in equally bad shape.  I quickly jumped into action and started figuring out what to do.  Fortunately we did not have to do much–the next morning they released him without having to post bail. He was handed a court date and a long list of things to do.

 I couldn’t explain the awful feeling of waiting for him outside of jail, the relief I felt when I was able to hug him and then the anger. I told him he was lucky we were right next to the police department if not I would be beating the crap out of him. 

He has a long road away-his ordeal is far from over and I can only hope he has learned his lesson and straightens out his life. I can’t imagine having to go through this again.