A young man’s hands in handcuffs — symbolizing addiction, accountability, and a mother’s hope for recovery.
Picking Up Where We Left Off
In yesterday’s post, I wrote about the endless waiting — the two long weeks after Hawk’s lawyer filed a motion to reduce his bond. The silence, the stress, the worry that nothing would ever move forward.
Today, that waiting finally ended. The courtroom doors opened, and we began what may be the hardest stretch yet in our family’s journey.
The Case That Started It All
Hawk’s first charge came in April, just two weeks before he turned 18. He was pulled over for rolling through a stop sign. The officers claimed they smelled marijuana and believed they had probable cause to search the car.
Inside, they found 60 Xanax pills — the generic name is alprazolam. That case was handled in juvenile court, and today, October 16, 2025, was the morning it was finally heard.
Another Arrest, Another Wake-Up Call
But that wasn’t the only case on the docket. We also had a hearing this morning for a motion to reduce bail connected to Hawk’s second arrest on September 20, 2025.
This one began as a speeding stop — about 30 miles over the limit, not far from our home, and by the same officers who pulled him over in April. Once again, they said they smelled weed.
When they searched his car, they found:
Seven (or more) vape pens Psilocybin mushrooms A scale And a handgun tucked under the front seat
That car was ours — the second one we’d bought him in a year. He had wrecked the first just days after graduation, on his way to the beach with friends.
We didn’t replace it immediately, but when college started in August, we decided to give him another chance. We made a deal:
He had to finish an online traffic safety class (he did). He had to attend every class each week. He had to stick to strict curfews on weeknights and weekends.
But in the end, those boundaries didn’t hold. He was arrested again on September 20.
Relief and Resolve — Bail Finally Reduced
This morning’s first hearing was for reducing his bond. I had prayed every single day — sometimes out loud, sometimes just silently in the dark — for a break.
After two long weeks of waiting, the judge finally approved the reduction to $25,000.
That means later today, I’ll meet with a bondsman to post $2,500 and secure Hawk’s release. If all goes smoothly, he’ll be transported straight from the jail to a rehab center that’s been holding a spot for him for two weeks.
When I finish writing this, I’ll start packing his suitcase — five to ten days of comfortable clothes, things that feel familiar but not too familiar. A soft hoodie. Sweatpants. Shoes he can walk in.
From Jail to Rehab — A Fragile Hope
Watching him this morning was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. My son — my boy — in an orange jumpsuit, shackled at the hands and ankles.
I tried to keep my face calm, my body still. I didn’t want him to see me cry. I wanted him to see support, not pity.
I hope he noticed me there. I hope he felt it.
More than anything, I hope this is his rock bottom — the moment when he finally sees how serious this is. He’s been battling mental health issues for years — ADHD, maybe ODD, definitely anxiety. If he embraces rehab and continues with sober living for 3–6 months, maybe, just maybe, he can start to heal.
His brain needs time to recover. His spirit needs time to reset. We all do.
Reflections From the Courtroom
As I sat there, I had the strangest thought: it felt like waiting in an auditorium before a school play or sitting in the principal’s office after one of those chaotic middle school days.
He’s always been misunderstood — bright, impulsive, intense. The kid who couldn’t sit still, who felt things deeply.
I’m not blaming anyone — not the schools, not society, not even myself. But I can’t ignore the toll that social media, technology, and even COVID isolation have taken on this generation.
All I know is that somewhere inside, he is still a good person. A fierce one. And I have to hold onto that belief.
Moving Forward
This is a lot to process, and even more to live through. But maybe writing it down helps all of us — me, my husband, our other two beautiful kids — start to heal.
I keep reminding myself: this could have ended much worse. He’s still alive. He still has a chance.
Now I’m off to pack that suitcase, to keep moving forward, and to believe that maybe — just maybe — today was the first real step toward healing.
Coming Tomorrow
Tomorrow’s post will share what happens next — whether the bail process goes smoothly and if the rehab center can take him directly from jail.
It’s one step at a time, but for the first time in months, there’s a small glimmer of hope.
I’ll also share the incredibly heartbreaking juvenile cases I witnessed today while waiting for Hawk’s juvenile hearing to be set.