Blog update; as the days become more hectic it seems.

My college class is very challenging and also very revealing about how my grammar and punctuation skills were in need of this refresher course.  I enjoy writing and I plan to share some of my college writing work on this blog between now and December.

Lucy, my sweet little puppy, is almost 4 months old now and she is proving to be very smart.  He will sit and lay down on command, most of the time.  She is crate trained, and house training accidents are becoming less and less.  We are getting into a routine and she is a bundle of energy as puppies tend to be.  Playing fetch with a tennis ball, digging up mole canals, dribbling a soccer ball, and intense nibbling of the cat’s ears are some of her favorite past times.  She has single handedly created much needed laughter in our home.  We love her dearly already and cannot imagine life without her!  My husband and I are planning our tenth anniversary trip and have decided that she will go along with us. 

My son has completed his 28 day inpatient rehab, moved into a transitional living apartment, has a sponsor (for the first time ever), and started a new job two days ago.  He is still feeling very positive about his decision to remove himself from our community and to start over in a new city.  His outlook is very positive, he has found an AA group that he really seems to respect and enjoy.  It is so amazing to me that days ago my son was in the depths of active addiction and my heart ached for him, understanding there was nothing I could do.  One step at a time, one day at a time, he found his way back.  He knew where he needed to be and what he needed to do, and he did it before it was too late.  He has told me more than once that is he so thankful to be alive and to have his life back.

Me:  Well all of the above, along with family visits, house work, yard work, and my full time job-- I am sleeping very good at night.  As Halloween approaches this coming weekend I must admit that I love to frighten little children who come seeking candy at my door.  Is this wrong?  Nah!  It is safe and harmless, and everyone ends up laughing including the kids. We have our usual spider trap ready, the ghosts are hung, the candy bowl is full, and rotten pumpkins adorn my front porch, so I guess you could say we are ready!  I hope that everyone has a safe and Happy Halloween, All Saints Day, and weekend.

 

 

 

One more thing before I close for today:  For those of you who are heart sick because your loved one has not found their way to recovery yet.  Don’t ever give up or let go of hope for them.  Be on the ready and prudent to help support them (however you can) in recovery when they make that decision.

 I felt like he was not hearing me when I would say…

“…Son- we will always love you! But we can only help you or support you in recovery.”

But, he heard me!  My son’s father was so angry and hurt by yet another relapse that he could not reach out and be supportive or loving toward his son at first this time around.  I understand being angry, but I think it might be better if we focus our anger on the disease not the person.  We need to always stay hopeful and ready to reach back out, again and again if necessary, when they reach out for recovery.

Recovery is their only hope for a happy and healthy life with addiction.

 

 

 

Back to School and more.

So yep, I am going back to school!  In Middle School (we called it Jr. High back then) and High School, I always knew I would be a College Graduate.  My dad made me a promise that the day after I graduated from college, he would buy me any car I wanted.  ANY CAR?  Yes, he said Any Car!  I remember having a magazine picture of a red MG Midget convertible hanging on my bedroom wall for years.  So off to college I went, the only trouble was that I was NOT prepared for life on my own even though I thought I was. 

 

I was raised in what I liked to call a “strict” home environment.  More to the truth my home environment was more about being controlling rather than strict.  I had freedoms handed down by my parents on a daily basis, but it was all controlled and purposeful.  When I moved off to college, my parents pretty much let go of any and all control, and me being a five hour drive away probably helped with that.  My new found freedom was adored.  I did well in some classes that came easy for me, and struggled in some that did not.  The freshman first quarter (quarter system back then) was not going to be judged to harshly by anyone and certainly no one, including myself, ever dreamed that I would drop out of college.

 

“A Drop Out.” my father said with great disappointment, but it was all about pride; my pride got crushed and my feelings were beyond repair.  A disagreement between me and my parents left me out on the streets like a homeless person.  The whole incident would have blown over and life would have returned to normal if I had just not been so devastated.   I dropped out of college before I could even finish my first year, and that decision has haunted me for over 30 years now. 

 

In the past thirty years, in between marriages, children, divorce, and unemployment, I have gone BACK TO SCHOOL 4 different times, but I have yet to get a degree in anything.  But I am determined if nothing else, to get that degree; even if it is just an Associate in Business.  I have always loved learning and being with other people learning; especially young people.  A refresher course in English Composition is my first academic requirement which will begin next week.  Hopefully this course will not only serve me well in my future academic studies, but will also help my blog.  I have gone back to school so many times I am not nervous at all.  I am past the point of caring about my age, and being the oldest person in the class.  What will bother me will be if I make less than a 4.0 score in this class.  I think I hold myself to a high standard partly because of my age, and partly just because that is what I want to achieve.   Visualization can be a component of success and I will implore that attitude- for good measure.

 

Working a fulltime job, part time school will take longer, but I don’t care about that either.  As I have aged many things like time, nervousness, and other people’s perceptions have taken on new meanings for me.  To quote the fabulously attractive and wise Rhett Butler character;

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”  This iconic quote has become my mantra of sorts when questions come up about what others might think and how that relates to me.  I care about what a handful of people think, and I know I can go to them with any concern I may have.  I also know that they will always give me an honest and un-obtuse opinion.  In the RE-Vamp of my life, which is also known as my life with addiction, I have pondered many thoughts about my dreams and happiness.   If it is important to me and can be a positive and healthy influence in my life- then I’m going for it!  And in this case…I am going for it AGAIN!

 

Another decision I made recently was to try again with a companion pet, but this time no rescue dog for me.  I tried 2 different rescue dogs and neither of them worked out.  I was very distraught over the fact that I could not bond with either of those dogs, but I did manage to find them new companions that did bond with them.  This time I decided to wait a little while before I jumped back into pet ownership.  Maybe my standards were too high.  Maybe my expectations were impossible.  Maybe I was not meant to love another dog.  I just could not understand why I had such a difficult time with those two rescue dogs.  But with time it was inevitable, I wanted a dog and I was going to have a dog.  And so last week I purchased a female puppy  I named Lucy.  She had been previously purchased but returned to her breeder by another family; and when I meet her for the first time I knew she was the dog for me!  She is 3 months old, full of energy, very smart, and more importantly VERY LOVING!  The loving part of this sweet little puppy has brought me and my family great joy every day that she has been with us.    In the past week we have made some progress with her potty training and general commands.  She was a good decision and I have decided that she is a rescue pup, even though I bought her from a breeder.  Little Lucy has rescued ME! Like I said… I am making things happen in my life and fulfilling dreams that are healthy and positive for me and the ones that I love!  That includes letting myself be rescued by a puppy!

 

Everyone say hello to Lucy---- the newest addition to our family! 

Judge NOT!

I haven’t had much to say lately.  My son is at a 30 day rehab in another city and he has completed about 10 days so far.  The weeks leading up to him entering detox and then finding a rehab facility have been trying to say the least. 

 

For two years I have hoped and cried that my son would find his way back to recovery; and now that he is there and working toward that goal, I just don’t know what to say.  It’s a weird silence inside me; a calm and reserved feeling deep inside—like I don’t want to be too happy but I am so relieved he is there!  I know that his recovery will take a lifetime, and so to get excited today seems pointless to me.

 

The other day as I flipped through Facebook reading the many post of my so called “Friends”, there was a part of me that wanted to yell a ‘Status’…   

 

·         Thanks everyone for your thoughts and prayers about my son!  He is doing well and we could not be more proud that he has made the decision to take back control of his life and fight this disease of addiction.

·         Oh wait …never mind---- none of you have even asked about him!

But I didn’t.  Facebook is full of silly, mindless, sad, funny things all of the time.  The thought that Facebook Friends are REALLY my friends is ridiculous!  It is just High School, with a way to see photos of loved ones and other family members who live far away for me.

 

This fight my son is fighting has been going on a long time now, and it will continue on for the rest of his life.  I really don’t think they ( my so called friends) want to hear about it, because they don’t understand it and don’t know what to say.  They are “ignorant” (if you will) about addiction, simply because they don’t have a loved one who suffers from this disease and have not taken the time to learn.  I was ignorant about this disease for a very long time, and I don’t pretend to know everything about it now; but I have learned a lot purposefully in the past two years.

 

I use to have a bumper sticker back in the 90’s on my car that said “Mean People Suck”, and for the most part it’s true, but- in my humble opinion -mostly mean people are just ignorant people. 

I pierced my belly button, nose, and tongue back in the 90’s too -- all for different reasons but with one main goal; to force people to look past a visible nonconforming look and not judge me for it.  I had very mixed reactions from a wide range of different people- and I was judged harshly by many, even my loved ones.

 

I have always lived in the southern United States, and we “Southerners” have a reputation for conformity and our way is the best way you know!  The ‘old school thinkin and judging folks’?... well that is just what we do down here! 

 

Now I am not beating up on the Southern Gentlemen and Ladies; everybody knows we all judge each other, and I consider myself a Southern Lady!  But, we ALL do this when we see someone who is not like us or challenge us; those who look different, sound different, smell different, and act different!   But this comes from a place of pure ignorance and fear.

 

So judge NOT least ye be judged!  As the verse goes- Right?

 

In the spirit of…take what you need and leave the rest…

I tweaked the serenity prayer the other day to try and help me out with MY judging all those “friends” of mine on Facebook who have not ONCE asked about how my son was doing.

 

God grant me the serenity to NOT JUDGE anyone.

To accept that IGNORANCE has and always will EXISIT.

And, the wisdom to be QUITE about that.

 

 

I figure it is not my place to go around telling other people what I feel is right and wrong anymore; after all I am just one person trying to figure it out day by day.  Most days I fail at being the best human being I can be, but the beauty is with every sunset and every sunrise, I get a do over and I try again!  Just like an addict.

 

Some days are better than others.  And then some days are even pretty great to where I don’t think I could feel or be any happier than I am at that very moment.  And those days are the days that I try and hold on to.  Those are the days that erase the bad days from the memory banks in my mind.  I don’t want to judge anyone!  And with God’s help, I will try, every day, very hard not to do judge!

Fantasy Football

 

 

I have discovered that Fantasy Football is very popular these days.  My 30 year old daughter and her girlfriends have a league and they look forward to this time every year.  I don’t play Fantasy Football but I am a huge football fan.  I grew up watching football on Sunday’s with my Dad.  Back in 60’s & 70’s stores were closed on Sundays where we lived.   My Dad worked in retail so he had long hours during the week, he did yard work or played golf on Saturday, and we had family time on Sundays.  During football season family time was watching football games together.  My Dad was a player back in his day, and he taught me all about the game and rules.  For a girl to know as much about football as I did impressed the boys; and to this very day I can call a penalty before the announcers can sometimes.  Fantasy Football is just another way to get fans involved in the game, but I prefer to just watch.

It has been 4 days since my son decided to go to detox in hopes of entry to an inpatient rehab facility.  We heard nothing for 2 days and then finally he called.  The sound in his voice was one of hope and hurting, we could tell that he was different somehow in his words.  He has such a long and difficult road ahead, but right now this is his path and all of us that love him are very relieved.

 

He has been talking with several rehab facilities and has an interview setup for this coming Thursday, but he needs to get transportation arranged.  I have always said that I would provide him transportation to rehab whenever he needed it, and so we will travel on Thursday together for his interview.  He will no doubt be nervous and so will I.  There is a chance that he will not be accepted and then he will have to figure something else out very quickly, but our hopes are high.

 

This will be the 4^th inpatient rehab for my son in 13 years and my hope for him never fades.  Over the years my feelings, attitude, knowledge, and understanding about my son’s addiction have changed and grown.  I began this journey –my life with addiction—in denial and disbelief and then quickly became angry and withdrawn.   My first experience with my son going through rehab provided great relief and happiness.   I was able to put my son’s addiction behind me, and carry on pretending nothing ever even happened.  I can remember thinking to myself what a “bad dream” that had been, but now all was well.

 

The next group of events that my son’s addiction brought on would be legal issues.   A felony conviction, probation, work release, fines, probation violations, which lead to another felony conviction, more lawyers and Judges, Court Clerks and Deputy’s, and finally the potential transfer to the State Prison system.  But then a Drug Court option was offered to my son, and he grabbed hold to that as if he had no other choice.  Thanks to that Judge and that program my son stay in the county lockup for 9 months until a bed became available for him in rehab.  That period of time while he was jailed and waiting proved very difficult for all of us including my son.  The visits, the holidays and celebrations- his daughter was born while he was locked up- they all were less than because he could not be a part of those with us.  Once he was transferred to the rehab we all felt a huge relief that finally he could begin to fix what was wrong with him.

 

On our very first family visit to that facility, which was a 6 month mandatory inpatient facility, I will never forget.   The director explained to all of us there for our family visit, that the statistics were that 9 out of 10 addicts will relapse, that only 10% of those seeking abstinence would be able to achieve that goal the first time around.  I can remember like it was just moments ago when I heard those words, and how the tears began to stream down my face.  Then another mother there spoke of this being her son’s 9^th attempt in rehab.   I sat there in shock and disbelief.  I can remember looking into her eyes as she spoke with no emotion and so very matter of fact; all the while I could not contain my emotions as my tears continued.  She spoke of loving her son and never giving up hope that he would be able to find his way to recovery and hold on.  I can still remember thinking…could this be true?  Could this be true for my son?  No!  My son is different; he’s smart, he won’t make this mistake again. He has been through so much, he has lost so much.  And here we are seven years later and this is his 4^th time in rehab. 

 

I am writing about this today because I think it is important to offer this insight up to any and all who are searching to understand and come to terms with this horrible affliction we call addiction. I am also reminding myself.  Because it does not matter how smart they are, or how kind or sweet, or obviously how many times they have been through detox or rehab.  The only thing that matters is now, today, this time.

 

Love, forgiveness, and understanding about how truly difficult the process of recovery is for our loved ones is what gives me compassion and empathy.  If you believe that being an addict is what your loved one wants to be, you are very wrong and have been misguided.  Yes, while the disease is in control of your loved ones mind, they make terrible choices to used drugs, steal and lie; so many horrible choices.  But once they find and hold on to what can keep them fighting against that every present disease, they then begin to make progress and they start making the right choices to stay drug free and in control. 

 

This process will be a forever process for them, with time the cravings will lessen and even go into hiding, but they will never leave them.  For the rest of my son’s life he will have to fight to hold on to his sobriety one day at a time, but for right now he is holding on one minute at a time.

 

I understand and realize that this time may not be “THE” time that he gets what he needs to hold fast to his sobriety, but then again it may be.  I am rooting for him from the couch understanding that I can’t be his coach, but I am his biggest fan.  He is my number one fantasy pick and whatever happens I won’t trade him or give up on him.  I’m gonna Hold On to him!

09/11/2014

13 years

 

I can remember it so clearly and even today when I see those images of planes being hijacked and used as weapons of mass destruction I feel so very sad and lost.  Our leaders try to reassure us sounding calm and resolved; but there are no words that can console us.   This year I watched a program on September 10, about the events that led up to 9/11/01 on the NGC.  The program is very interesting, filled with new insights and new stories of some of those lost on that terrible day.

 

Around 3000 people died from the events of 9-11 and over 3000 children lost a parent that day.  The total number of those who were directly affected as family members, friends, neighbors, mentors or co-worker is far greater still.  The tragedy on 9-11 touched our entire nation, and our nation mourned with those loved ones, and we remember their loss every anniversary.  This was not some natural disaster; this was a deliberate act of hate that changed our nation forever.   

 

This is a photo that I took at the 9-11 Pentagon Memorial in DC.

 

My feelings of loss for 9-11 are similar to my feelings of loss toward my addict son.  A numb feeling that comes from a lack of understanding even though I know what happened.  I can either harbor hate for what has happened or I can move past it, but either way I can never forget the tragedy.  As we try to adjust and we strive to be vigilant to protect ourselves and the innocent, we must move on.   

 

As I write this blog on the 13^th Anniversary of 9-11 my son sits in a triage room at a detox center in a mental health facility in hopes of being admitted.  I want to feel happy about the wonderful news of today, but I am afraid.  I am afraid to be happy for him or myself.  I am afraid to say “Hallelujah--- he has found his way to fight this horrible disease”.   But deep down inside I am very relieved, maybe not happy, but my hope has grown like the Grinch’s heart did on Christmas Day.

The Twins Vacation

My husband and I both have children from our first marriages (we do not have children together).  I have two children a boy and girl; my husband has five children 3 boys and 2 girls.  All of our children are over the age of 18 but the twins; fraternal twin boys 17 years old and seniors in high school this year.

 

For the past ten years my husband and I have taken the children every summer on vacation, and this being our very last child vacation I lobbied for our nation’s capital; Washington DC.  I think that every citizen of the USA should visit DC to see all that symbolically stands for what our founding fathers hoped for and wanted to achieve.  Our country is so unique compared to all other countries and municipalities in this world, and in days of such cynicism we need to remember from where we came and what we are supposed to stand for.  So many singular ideas forgetting that this country was born of compromise and liberty…not just liberty. 

 

I highly suggest the free Capitol tour through the Capitol Visitors Center.  The facility is very nice, well thought out, well managed, and high tech.  I was completely impressed and pleased!

As I walked up the steps and passed by the doors that lead to the balcony of the Capitol where Presidents take their oath of office, I could feel the history of that building in that moment.  Needless to say, it was surreal.  I listened to the story of how George Washington set the cornerstone; how the Capital was built in part by slave labor (that information only recently released to the public), and then burned and built again; expanded and updated, and how one part was hand painted by three different men over many years in such a magnificent way that the paintings look like sculptures.  I was proud and impressed by what I learned and re-learned, what I saw and how I felt as a citizen in my Capitol building.

 

 

 

The District is filled with monuments and memorials to lives lost and courage, great men with even greater ideas, to hero’s and generals, to allies and history, to art and innovation.  I have been to DC probably 5 times before, but on this trip I was most impressed by the WWII Memorial and the Pentagon 9-11 Memorial.  Every time I have been to DC my emotions are rushed and my patriotism and gratitude grows greater.  The National Archives is where you can see the original documents that forged this nation; The Declaration of Independence; the original Constitution of the United States; and the Bill of Rights.  They sit in a protective vault that is free and open to the public, citizen or not.  DC is a very busy place as you can imagine and very secure.  The people who work in DC for the most part were nice and very knowledgeable about what they were doing; weather it was the shuttle van drivers, tour bus guides, security officers, Metro attendants, or busy restaurant employees. 

 

The Capitol tour begins with a fifteen minute movie that tells about the buildings history and purpose.  They speak of how compromise is the essence of how our government works both now and in the beginning and how compromise is mandated by the Constitution.

 

By definition compromise is:  agreement: a settlement of a dispute in which two or more sides agree to accept less than they originally wanted

Something accepted rather than wanted: something that somebody accepts because what was wanted is unattainable

 

Compromise is necessary for any relationship.  Weather it is a people, or couple, a business or organization; compromise is one of the keys to success.  So many times I have had what I thought was an excellent idea, maybe not perfect but certainly a doable option, but my husband would offer  an alternative option that I never even thought about and we work out a compromise together.  With the twins we compromised with what they wanted to do in DC and what I felt like they should do and see in DC. 

 

But how does compromise fit in with addiction? As a loved one of someone who suffers with addiction, I must accept the things that I cannot change, have the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.    Accepting what I cannot change is certainly a compromise and a very difficult compromise at best.  Do I compromise what I need to do and say with my addicted love one?  Yes, Sometimes I do.  Sometimes I don’t set strong and healthy boundaries for myself and I have to make changes and listen to others who can offer me advice.  Sometimes I don’t get it right the first time, and I have to make compromises and adjust.  When what I want is not obtainable, I must compromise, just as our nation’s law makers must do.  I struggle sometimes with not wanting to compromise because I am certain that my ideas are what’s best, but often I am wrong.    The attitude that I take, weather negative, positive, or indifferent, can fortify whatever it is that I am trying to achieve.   When indifferent or negative attitudes abound I try not to make any important decisions or compromises.  I wait until the next morning because in the mornings I feel the most optimistic and hopeful.

 

Just like those who came before us, and forged their way to find a new world, we get things wrong too.  Mistakes will be made in life, and that is as promising as death and taxes.  What is most telling is how we compromise, adjust, accept, forgive and change mistakes into triumphs and celebrations.  Our country has found a way to overcome oppression, civil war, world wars, depressions, and recessions.  Many are still working on ending hunger, homelessness, disease, brutality, religious freedom, and many other challenges that face us and people all over the world.  Humanity is a work in progress evolving toward a more perfect union.   

 

Washington DC is not one of the 50 States; it is our nation’s capital and sacred ground to me.  George Washington himself chose the sixty one square miles along the Potomac River northeast of Virginia as the location for the governing body of our new nation.  It really is a wonderful place to visit and for me it stands as a reminder that hope abides within the essence of humanity then and now. 

A Difficult Night

Last night was a difficult evening for me living life with addiction.  But this morning is a new day, and I have renewed hope for my son that very soon he will find his way back to recovery.  I want to share the events of last night because evenings like last night are the reason why I started this blog. 

 

For the past few months my son has been coming over once a week to do his laundry, visit, and share a meal with us.  I do not instigate these weekly visits, he will usually text me and asks if this day or that day is better for us and we go from there.  This is my way of keeping my boundaries in place and keeping our relationship on my terms.

 

Yesterday afternoon before I ended my work day my son sent me a text…

                ‘You busy?  Can I come do laundry tonight?’

 

I had already planned on going to the grocery on my way home, so I decided that I would go by and pick my son up and take him with me to the grocery; maybe he needed a few things too.  You see last week when he came to do his laundry he told me that he had finally paid off his legal fines and restitution with City Court.   And…that he had one more court appearance to close the case against him.

 

 My response was…

”That is GREAT…so what is the plan now?”

 I know I should not have asked!  I should have just said…That is GREAT and left it at that…but sometimes I cannot seem to stop the words from coming out of my mouth!   

 

He said to me …”what do you mean?”

To which I responded “do you have a plan? Financially? Now that all your fines are paid off?”

“Sure!” he said “the first thing is save some money and get a phone, then a car, then a better place to live.  That’s The Plan.”

 

My heart jumped for JOY…my son had a plan…he wasn’t just living for drugs, he has a plan!  I was so happy to hear this.  Those few sentences truly gave me some added hope that maybe he had turned a page.

So yesterday when he reached out…I wanted to do something to maybe help him along with his plan if I could.  I was very much looking forward to the evening and visiting with my son.  My husband is out of town so much, I get lonely at home alone all week long.

 

When I pulled up to his apartment complex (which is an unkempt, dirty, dilapidated, four-plex where the people across the parking lot live without electricity by choice) he was sitting outside on the steps waiting for me.   It was probably 95 degrees outside and I could see before he ever got into the car that he did not look good.  He put his dirty clothes basket in the back and hopped in the front with me.  He looked terrible!  I had not seen him look this bad in months!  He was unshaved, his hair was oily, his clothes were grubby, and he had weepy looking eyes.   I said to him…”you look terrible!  Are you OK?”  He immediately pulled down the visor mirror and looked at himself and said…”What? I took a shower yesterday.” And then he looked directly at me.  I looked at his pupils to see if I could tell if he was high.  Before I gave myself a moment to think and process what I should and should NOT say… I said it….

 

“Are you high?”

 

 I immediately looked down and then I saw it!  Multiple track marks on his arms.  He was wearing a short sleeve shirt.  The track marks were bad and fresh.  OMG there it was like a slap to my face.

 

“Never mind!”  I say…”I shouldn’t have asked.”  He immediately began talking… he is saying things like...

 

No Mom!  I haven’t in a while.  It’s been like two days.  You know I’m trying.  What am I supposed to do?  Not having any is why I look like this.  It’s hard to just quit!

 

 It was almost like I was having an out of body experience for a few minutes.  I could hear him, but his words were muffled.  I just keep thinking to myself.  WHY ARE YOU SHOCKED BY THIS????  Your son is a heroin addict why are you surprised?  This is what it is.  BAM!  In your FACE lady!!!! 

 

I am not saying anything.  He stops talking too and now the car is quite.

 

I am not the type of person/mother that instantly begins to cry when she sees someone she loves hurting or gets bad news.  I usually go into action mode:  Cut finger-Band-Aid.  Broken heart-reassuring hugs and ice cream.

As a mom I have always been ready to “Fix it” when my kids got hurt!  Mistakes and accidents were meant to be learning opportunities not for scolding or corporal punishments.  I was determined NOT to be like my parents when it came to the Old School methods of discipline.  But learning how to live life with addition is loving motherhood in reverse .  You can't teach, you can't fix, YOU ARE NOT IN CHARGE of addition, or your addict loved one.

 

So much for the grocery store!   There is no way I am taking him with me to the grocery.  But I do take him to my house so he can start his laundry.  I just go about my regular routine—the wild rescue dog turned over his water at some point during the day and he is having a fit to get a drink of water.  I can barely control him.

 

 I tell my son that there is soup in the pantry if he is hungry and wants it.  I check the mail and then being to fix my supper.   All along I am thinking about how I will explain to my son why he cannot come back to my house next week.  I want to tell him right now!  I want to talk with him and make him see once and for all how heroin is not his friend and how he needs help!  But NO!  I can’t do that….nothing I can say will ever get through to my son.  It is like he can’t hear anything that anyone says to him…he can only hear himself right now.

 

I keep telling myself…It is all about what I can change and the wisdom to know the difference.  So I don’t say a thing until we are back his apartment building.  The people across the parking lot are still sitting outside their dark apartment on their stoop, and I can hear them talking loudly at each other.

 

I explain to him what my boundaries are and how I compromised them. 

I said that he may not understand why; but he cannot come and do laundry at my house next week.

I told him that I love him unconditionally no matter what! 

I said that I knew that he did not WANT to be an addict; but it was going to take more than WANT to overcome his disease.  

I reminded him that he knew a lot of people in town that could help him find his way back to recovery, but I was not one of those people.

I told him that I would stay in touch and he should too; and if he needed a ride to rehab I would be glad to take him.

I told him that I could only support him in sobriety and recovery.

 

I reached out and gave him a big hug, he hugged me back for what seemed like several minutes, like he did not want to let go!  He had tears in his eyes, and for the life of me I do not know how I held it together. 

 

 As I drove back home I was in a trance like state, numb and drained of every ounce of energy I had.  There it was…the reality of… my life with addiction.  As I started thinking back to what a sweet child my son was when he was younger,  I reminded myself that he is still my sweet son, but no longer young. 

 

He is a man with 30 years upon his head-- I will not, call him child.

Read more: Grateful Dead - Ship of Fools Lyrics | MetroLyrics

 

It is well known that Jerry Garcia struggled with heroin addiction for many years before he died.  I think he was an extremely talented man in so many ways. I am one of the many Jerry fans in the world, and often when I wonder what in the world my son is thinking…I hear Jerry sing.  I just happened to be miracled into the very last show that Jerry played with the Grateful Dead in Chicago 1995.  I will never forget it!