I just realized that when something is bugging me I don't/can't wait until the next day to blog about it (if I've already posted one today).
Take today for instance. For the past three nights Mr. Gaelic and I have been called saints by several parents. The latest ordeal began last Saturday night when Dierdre and her two friends Alice and Lori were planning on spending the night at Lori's house. They were all downtown with their boyfriends before they were to head back to Lori's when they ran into another friend, Jordan.
Jordan is a very petite blonde who was adopted from Russia by a single mother. There has always been some sort of drama surrounding Jordan and her mom. The biggest was last summer when Jordan ran away and moved in with a boyfriend several years her senior. Two other mothers became involved before Jordan was returned to her own mother.
Last Saturday, Jordan told the three girls that her mother had said it was alright for her to sleep over at Lori's too. Lori's mom asked Jordan if it was okay when all the girls showed up.
On Sunday while Mr. Gaelic and I were sitting in church, my cellphone rang. We had left Maeve at home because she was tired from babysitting the night before. I didn't answer my phone but shoved it deeper into my purse to muffle it. Turns out that the police were at my house and wanted Maeve to call us.
Jordan's mom had called in a missing person's report on her. The police had gone to all the places that she had been known to go. Apparently they hit our house before hitting Lori's house. That's where they found her.
Deirdre and Alice, who returned from the sleepover just after I arrived home, were telling me the whole story (which, believe it or not, I've shortened here) when the police pulled up in front of my house again. This time Jordan got out of the cruiser and walked to our door and the police drove away. No how-do-you-do, no nothin' from the police.
Jordan and her mom needed a cooling off period. It was agreed that Jordan would stay with Alice for two nights and with us for three nights. Mr. Gaelic talked to her about what her plan was. She had none.
Mr. Gaelic is the only male in her life. Her mother is a never-married woman; Lori's father died 11 months ago; Alice found out about her father's affair before her mom did and he moved in with his much-younger girlfriend. But Jordan needs more help than any of our skill sets allows.
In talking to her mom today for almost an hour, she and I decided that we would drive Jordan to her mom's house this evening. I don't know whether Jordan will stay or leave again. As much as I would like to help, she just can't stay here another night. And I'm not about to turn her out on the street.
This is what I was actually writing about the other day with the tractor-beam parents and the lighthouse parents. I really have come to appreciate lighthouses. They can be the saviors of many. But still some ships are lost at sea. I'm ready to hand back my sainthood.
Music and Footsteps
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