I walk out of a shop with my 10 year old grandson to find his birth mother parked out the front of shop, window down, leaning toward us to speak. As we approach I see a beaten up old car, junk and rubbish all throughout and a piece of rope tied from the console to the drivers side door. It appears to be holding the door shut. 'Hi' she says in a very quietly spoken voice, hardly a voice that is heard very often these days. We say hi back and I notice how even more thin she has become since I last saw her 2 months earlier. The last time I saw her she told me I was dead to her with many more words that I wouldn't repeat. But now I look at her and see the little frightened 12 year old I once loved and cherished. She is now 27 and she is wearing pyjamas, her pregnancy is not showing, she would now be over 5 months along. She politely asks for some petrol money and says 'I just want to go home'. Home to her is a small unit she recently acquired - no bed, no fridge, tv or food I imagine. As I have done many times before, I empty my pockets to just find $7.50. She is happy, $7.50 to her could be the answer to all of her perceived problems - that's if her lucky numbers come up, she thinks I don't know but I do know. She will put it through the pokies in the hope it will provide her with the illegal luxuries she is so hanging out for. We quietly say goodbye, she thanks me, blows into her interlock system and drives away. I feel my own imaginary rope - it's tied to the car and attached to my heart - my heart rips out every time. I miss her, I long for my little girl back. I wonder where and how it all went so terribly wrong. I return home to my grandchildren. Thanks for listening ..................