“We’re airlifting your daughter to shock trauma”, said the paramedic on the phone. “Is she going to be OK?” I asked, barely able to speak. “There’s a lot of blood” was the response and the line went dead.
Ours was the family to which this could never happen. When my beloved daughter, Annie, became addicted to alcohol, marijuana, and then ultimately lived on the streets of our community as a meth addict, I realized that if addiction could happen to her, then addiction could happen to absolutely anyone. And it of course does.
As I picked up the telephone receiver, the tremulous voice at the other end was that of our youngest child, 19-year-old Jennifer. "Mum"—the tone made my heart sink once more, as it had countless times in the past four years when Jenny would call us for help. "Mummy, I'm in Las Colinas. I've been arrested. I've had an accident..."