the person on the other side of the mirror

I had a meeting with the "button" the other day at "fall semester".

I sat there in the chair waiting for the "button".  I had written an agenda on the back of my hand so I could stay focused.

Nothing, nothing, nothing can prepare you for seeing your child in orange and in handcuffs.  Nothing. 

There he was and there went the agenda right out the window.

As he sat down, there we were, mother and son seperated by a glass window. 

My grandmother always said that the "button" was "like a fart in a skillet, all over the place."  Wow, she should have been here. 

He was, all over the place emotionally.  Maybe he was excited, nervous, happy, who knows but his emotions were everywhere, kind of like my pms emotions.

Anyway, after the business was discussed, I asked the dreaded questions, "just how bad is your drinking problem?"

He responded, "not that bad, I just needed more counseling."

It was at that moment that I know I was overcome by a cartoon character....My eyes BULGED out of their sockets and were protuding forward with my hands gripped on the counter securing me in the chair instead of going through the glass..."isn't that what the rehab center was for?"  I had to ask.

I sat there and looked at him and was soooo caught off guard.  He needed a haircut, he looked like he hadn't slept in about four months and his skin looked dull. The "button" is neat as pin and always has a short haircut and it was just hard to look at him.

I must tell you, this wasn't a scene from a movie with some adoring mother on the other side holding her hand up to the glass for him to reach out and touch.

I wondered, when he looked through the glass, did he see a loving mother or did he "really" see me?  Could he see that instead of the hand connecting on the glass, I wanted to take my hands and put them around his neck?  Did the see this?  Could he feel it?  Is that why he was soooo all over the place? 

It had never occured to me that he might be looking at me differently.  Did he see how poorly I looked?  Did he notice the stress on my face or did he just think that my anti-aging cream wasn't working like it said it would on tv?  Did he notice my bags under the eyes and that my skin was red and dewey from the tears I shed in my car before I walked in?

And it wasn't mentioned.  The glass was between us.  My child is twenty miles away and I cannot talk to him, touch him or see him.  That damn glass was like an ocean seperating two continents.

I left emotionally drained.  I honestly should not have gone.  I wasn't ready.  I am still angry, hurt, devastated and in despair.  I should have waited.  You  know what they say, "if its and buts were candy and nuts, we would all have a flipping Merry Christmas."

I have thought so much about the meeting.  I have thought so much about everything.  I am thought out.  I cannot think anymore.  I need a project.  I guess I could wash my windows.