On that Tuesday afternoon I was at work when the phone rang. I can still hear the officer's voice as he spoke into the receiver, "Your daughter has just been in an accident and is on her way to the county jail". My mind struggled to comprehend the connection between "accident" and "jail". My response was barely audible as I tried to smolder the intensity of the emotions that were on the verge of exploding. I said, "Is Kayla alright? Jail, what do you mean jail?" The officer explained to me that my daughter had not been injured in the accident. However she was on her way to the county jail because she was intoxicated.

I had previously attempted to prepare myself as the mother of two teenage daughters by allowing my mind to play the "what if" game. It is a familiar method to that allows me to consider contingency plans for things that I think could happen. However, not one single time did I ever ask myself, "what if Kayla gets drunk and hits a parked car?"

My 17 year old daughter had always been one of those extremely responsible and respectable young ladies. She has been employed at a local restaurant, working every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night for the past year. She has never come home at any time with the smell of alcohol on her body or breath. I have always been clear on my stance on the need to be able to trust my daughters. I would have previously bet anyone my paycheck for a year that I would not be dealing with this situation.

Obviously, that would have been a bet that I would have lost. It all changed three months ago on Kayla's last day of her junior year of high school. On that Tuesday afternoon she and another girl drove over to a male classmate's house. For a reason that remains unknown to me, the teens started drinking tequila. Needless to say, Kayla has no recollection of ever leaving the boy's house. Two miles down the road she struck a parked car and that is when the influence of alcohol and consequences from it began to kick in.

Her lack of judgment on that day, just a few months ago, combined with the effects of alcohol resulted in consequences that neither she nor I ever prepared for. The gamut of emotions varied within both of us. I quickly had to come to terms with the fact that most of the time people, including our children, need love when they deserve it the least. Kayla had to grasp the fact that she had all but destroyed the trust that she had built with me over the years. She also was faced with many other consequences

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