Photo by SOULSANA on Unsplash

What a clash of lives… all this dysfunctional modeling, aren’t my kids lucky?! While my mother lay on the operating table, literally with her heart in the doctor’s hands; while my siblings, myself, and my daughter sat in the waiting room trying to be hopeful; hundreds of miles north, my teenage son was being told he would be thrown into foster care by a law enforcement officer. This at the request of my ex- the kids’ dad- who withheld permission for the kids to go visit their grandmother after heart surgery because it was during his placement period. Both of my teens had repeatedly refused to see their dad regularly since the divorce, even refused in police presence. My teenage daughter came with me. My son stayed back because he had a counseling session with his dad that day. I respected his choice.

Then I got the hysterical call from my son… the police were at my house. My sisters and brother, daughter, and I listened in fear as the officer threatened to call human services right then and there. Now, when I look back, I wonder if the officer was concerned for my son at the hands of his father. My teenage son was in no danger in his own (my) home and the officer knew it. When I pressed and asked what made him believe my teenage son was in danger in his own home, he replied weakly, mumbling something about stoves and kids being forgetful… It was probably loathing and fear and disgust (ie. an emotional outburst) that made me question the officer’s integrity, but this…