Listen and Learn

Trapped. 

That is how I felt.  For the last eight weeks, I have had to fill in at my husband's office.  It is a forty-four hour work week, unless I don't finish the jobs that I normally do when we have another employee in the office or an emergency comes in.  Then it could easily stretch to a fifty hour work week.

Endlessly the phone rings to schedule appointments, ask for advice, give updates on their horses health or sometimes to complain about a bill.  Clients come in to pick up medications and love to talk without realizing that there is still lab work to get ready for pick up or shipments to unpack because someone is waiting on a medication.  I used to handle the stress far better.

My husband and I have been doing this for over twenty years and I am weary from it.  It is his passion, not mine.  But, it is our bread and butter.  I am grateful.  I'm just very tired and very burned out.

I had to take over at the office one week before I went to New Jersey to pitch a book that I have been working on for quite some time.  At first, I panicked.  Then I realized that I had given this outcome to God and so whatever was supposed to happen would.

In the midst of this heavy workload, my son decided to seek sobriety.  He decided.  There is such gratitude and a lot of trepidation. 

Be careful. 

Don't expect. 

Just be.

Breathe.

Then, I realize that for a few weeks, all three adult children will live with us.  There is more laundry.  There is less food.  The house is a big mess.  I find myself tensing up. 

On a Tuesday evening, after a nine hour day at work, cooking supper and running a load of clothes, I wanted nothing more than to put on my jammies and fall asleep on the couch to some mindless  television program. 

But, I have the key to the church where our Al-Anon meeting is held.  I knew that the others who have keys would not be there that night.  I'd like to say that I knew that I needed a meeting, but I was too tired to care.  I felt obligated.  So, gripping and complaining, I went.

The chairperson for the evening's meeting said that I had 'voluntold' her to chair the meeting.  I think that is how I got my service position.  It was either that or I didn't show up and so I was nominated and voted in.  I'm glad that she chaired because she did a marvelous job and it was just the meeting that I needed. 

Her topic was on the slogans.  She took all of the slogans that she could find from our conference approved literature (CAL), typed them up,cut them into strips, folded and put in a basket.  She asked for us each take a turn to choose a strip, look in the index of our book and find a reading on that topic and then read the reading and tell the group, how that topic applied to our day.

As always, there are no mistakes.  God always seems to choose just what we need.  I think he told me to 'shut up and listen, dad gummit.'  No, he told me to 'listen and learn.'  Boy, oh boy is that exactly what I need.

I kept my slip of paper.  I am using it as a book mark. 

I'm glad I spent those eight weeks at the clinic.  I was able to clean up a lot of things that needed dealing with.  I was able to find a smart young girl who is happy to work there. 

My son decided to get sober, dealt with some things he needed to deal with and has chosen sober living.  He chose. 

My daughters and I have spent some time talking through some hard things that needed dealing with.

My husband and I are working through things we've needed to deal with for a long time. 

Before, I would have felt very sorry for myself.  I still did at first. 

But, then I decided to 'listen'--what am I being told to look at,  in this situation?  And, 'learn' --how am I to respond in a way that I am being led?

Like those who suffer from addictions, I too, don't really like to deal with things.  I'm learning.  It is hopeful.  My HP does a pretty good job, if I will let Him. 

I'm grateful to have my time at home again.  Lucy, my doxie is too.  We take our walks each morning.  She is careful to sniff and see who has been on "her walk".  She tells the big dogs in the neighborhood to, "Back off" when they bark at us.  And we are both grateful for our time of prayer and meditation.  Her snoring is somehow soothing as I pray.

I may have been gone, but, I did not stop praying for Henry, mine and yours.




 

Sunny and Seventy-five.....

Today is a gorgeous day.  It is sunny and 75 as the country music song goes.  I would love to enjoy this day but instead, I got called in to cover the Dad's office.  If I seem a bit pout-y about this, it is because I am. 

I think that all of the cold, wind, snow and dreary skies have caused my body to organically blanket itself in fat for added warmth.  As I begin to shed thick layers of clothing and try to squeeze my body into some of my warmer weather clothing, I find myself mildly panicking.  You see, I will see my endocrinologist tomorrow.  It will not be pretty.

I'm not giving up without a fight though, in a desperate attempt at quickly shedding say ten pounds overnight, the Dad took me to Wal-Mart where we bought bikes.  They are complete with bigger seats and baskets.  My first ride caused me to collapse on the sofa for a two hour nap.

We have not heard from the Son in a week.  That is always worrisome.  The Dad and I have taken a vow to detach from his situation.  With a bit of Lenten encouragement, we are trying to walk this Paschal Path while praying for the faith to trust that God does in fact love him more than we do.

Our girls don't really ask about him.  They know that I freely share the good news.  They are weary of the bad so we just 'don't ask-don't tell' as they say.  Even friends rarely ask.  It is probably safer that way.  But, sometimes it is a lonely feeling. 

I am sneaking in bits and pieces of time to work on my book.  My book and I have a love/hate relationship.  I need to write it but it is painful and sometimes I dread it all at the same time.  I am drudging forward.  Secretly, I'd love to be able to wait long enough to slap a happy ending onto it.  But, in reality, it is probably best to end it here where we are trying to tread water and grow our faith.

It is in this place that we are just a bit closer to our Lord.  This is where we learn the most.  And this is where I am most afraid.  Today I pray for each of you and your loved ones as I pray for Henry.
 

You Can Either Laugh or Cry........

I haven't been here to post in a while.  I haven't visited your blogs either.  But, true to this blog's name, I have been praying for you and your addicted loved ones.

 

Prayer is a joining up in relationship with my power who is Greater than myself--we had to work that one out but I've finally come around to His way of thinking....but, I digress.  I have been deeply working through prayer these last few months.

 

One way that I have found to pray is through writing.  I have been afraid to say that out loud even though  I have been calling myself a writer for a couple years .  I decided that it was okay to do that because --well, anyone can write.  But,  really what I  would like most is to become an author and that is an entirely different beast.  That means that I need to learn to write well.

 

I have been hunkered down working on a project that I will share more about later as I get a better handle on it.

 

My son is working at a wonderful restaurant and doing an IOP.  I am working very hard at staying out of his business.  And, when I forget, he is thoughtful enough to remind me.  It is a work in progress. 

 

Big Sister is in Louisiana in a doctoral program.  Her school got out for Mardi Gras (apparently we all went to the wrong school).  I think it was a great experience for her.  And," no there was no flashing for beads going on, Mom, in case you were wondering."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Little Sister is in her very last year of nursing (BSN) and was hired at a hospital as a CNA(certified nurses assistant) PRN (as needed).  She is thrilled about this as it helps her to make connections once she graduates,  because she is so afraid that she will never be hired.  Did you all know that it takes experience to get experience?  Because, I could not have possibly known that until she sat me down to explain it to me in slow......, loud .....words.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Dad has brought a new standard poodle puppy into our world.  He assures me that they are intelligent animals.  He (Louis) has chewed every magazine in our home.  He even went to the newspaper recycle basket and went through the entire stack to find any shiny magazine-like pages and pulled those out to chew into rice sized pieces which he evenly distributed all over the sofa and floor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He can pull the runner off of kitchen table.  He has not yet mastered the trick of keeping the napkins and salt and pepper shaker in their place when he rips the runner off of the table.  I am sure he will keep trying.

 

He has decided that we shouldn't be able to snack while sitting on the sofa since he cannot share with us--thus he has chewed up each and every coaster that we own.

 

And, he has a distinct eye for fashion.  He skipped over every cheap pair of flip flops that I own, opting for my expensive OluKai ones with the much needed 'old lady arch supports' for his chewing pleasure.

 

See, I told you he is intelligent.  Maybe I need a new trainer. 

 

I'm going to a silent three day directed retreat next week and then going to visit Big Sister.  I'll remember you there and your loved ones as I pray for Henry and all of you.

 

 

 

 

Numb

"Well Mama, I think we have finally become numb."  The Dad said over our lunch, last Friday.
We were traveling to Columbus Ohio to the Dad's thirty year veterinary school reunion when I received a call from a bail bondsman letting me know that the son had been arrested for a DUI, his second in a month.

The Son has worked very hard to stay off of drugs.  But, he hasn't yet accepted his powerlessness over alcohol.  We did not bail him out, this time.  We did not try to manage his consequences.  This time, we tried to manage our lives, instead.

As I sat over lunch I thought about it, numb was the perfect adjective.  I didn't feel anything.  I didn't feel the panic, that I might have felt early on.  I didn't feel all that surprised.  Parents/loved ones know when the distance of addiction is present.  And, we know that something is probably brewing just over the horizon.

Instead of changing our plans to hover over the latest crisis, we went on our trip, taking in each activity with gratitude.  We stopped for lunch at a Jerry's restaurant, one that we had eaten at many times while growing up because it was the only restaurant in Elizabethtown KY.  I'd like to say that we didn't worry at all, but you would all know how impossibly untrue that can be. 

We stopped in Lexington Kentucky at the historic Keeneland Race Course and watched a few races while enjoying the beautiful sunshine that blanketed the still green pastures of central Kentucky.  From there we headed north and once we crossed the Ohio river we took in a little Cincinnati style chili at Skyline Chili.  Finally we finished our journey north by arriving at our hotel in Columbus.

The next morning after breakfast, we went to the All American Quarter Horse Congress, a show that is the culmination of all of the American Quarter Horse show season where the best of the best compete.  When my mind tried to return to the illusion of what I'd like to control, I would try to steer it in the direction of  'what am I to learn from today for my life.'  Then we had a little Rotola's pizza, the Dad's favorite from vet school and a trip to Barnes and Noble--what trip is complete without a new book or two?

We went back to the room and I read while he watched THE Ohio State cream Rutgers.  Then we headed to the reunion.  We visited and chatted.  Most were strangers to me.  At one point the Dad whispered in my ear, " Are you okay?"

Quite automatically I responded, "Yes, I am, now that I know who I am."

I'm not sure why that came out.  But, if I think about it, knowing who you really are instead of being the extension of others releases any fear that I might have had before. 

Post addiction, I can go to the reunion and see those who are posturing and think, "Bless their hearts" and enjoy those who are just want to touch base with old classmates.  Knowing who I am is a perpetual exercise in understanding intention.

That exercise allowed me to come to a place where I can let this place that we find ourselves in be about recognizing that this is his disease to figure out.  I will love him....enough to stop offering advice.  I will trust enough that I will allow him the space to feel God's presence and help. 

Numb, yes to the old fears and worries but yet hopeful.  Hopeful that like me, he will start to know who and whose he is and finally to know that that is all that really matters.

Praying for us all.  Praying for Henry.





 

The Past Meets the Future

We drove thru Mississippi several times each year when I was growing up.  At Memphis the terrain looked different.  My mother was from Tupelo.  My aunt lived in Jackson.  I loved the beautiful pine trees and the hanging moss trees that dotted the low flat roadways.  Tobacco and corn gave way to cotton and sorghum.  I always wondered about Billie Joe McCalister as I crossed the Tallahatchie River.  The visits with my cousins were fun and a little exotic to a girl from such a small town in Kentucky.  I memorized the drive.

Cousin and I saw the movie "Grease" four times one summer until Uncle found out and put a stop to it!!  We delivered the Clairon Ledger early in the morning wearing shorts and t-shirts and rollers in our hair.  We rode bikes to the pool and ice cream shop and sometimes to Kroger to buy shrimp off a truck that brought it fresh from the gulf each day.

The last time that I made that trip was twenty-seven years ago to be a bridesmaid in my cousins wedding.  The church was a beautiful stone building right across the street from the state capitol building in Jackson.

Big Sister is going to grad school.  She will be a doctoral student at Louisiana Tech University.  The first trip we made, we went thru Arkansas.  It was exhausting.  The second trip, we drove thru Jackson and went west thru Vicksburg on past Monroe to Ruston.  Memories began to flood back into my mind. 

My daughter would travel these same roads that me and my mother did.  She was going as far away from home that the Dad and I did just twenty-nine years ago.  The past was meeting the future.  Wonder how it's all connected?  Does it mean anything?

We moved Big Sister into her apartment.  She hung a mirror on the wall by the front door.  One last glance before heading out to be sure the hair is just right before going out.  But as I caught a glance of myself taking one last load up her stairs I didn't see myself in that mirror.  I saw an older woman that looked an awful lot like my mother.

Time marches on.  Time marches on.  Trying to live in this moment.  Even though my mind is caught up in the past.  In April, all three kids were at home.  We asked the son to leave a month ago.  He is where he needs to be to decide the kind of life that he wishes to live.  Big Sister is making her way far away.  Little sister begins school one week from today.

Our full crazy house will be quiet again.  I am sad and I am glad.  Not sure how to think or feel but going to keep praying. 





 

Thoughts From the Weekend

Big Sister and I drove to Ruston Louisiana Friday night.  She had an interview for a position in a PhD program at Louisiana Tech University.  We arrived at 12:30 am.  We were unable to leave until she got off work at 2 pm.  Saturday morning she was supposed to be at the university by 9:30 am and finished around 4 pm and then back for a dinner at 6 pm. 

I did a little wandering around.  Ruston is 30 minutes from West Monroe, LA in one direction and an hour from Shreveport in another direction.  I wandered around the antique district in West Monroe.  It was probably the best antique shopping I'd ever seen.

Once her dinner was over, she picked me up from Starbucks ( where she had parked me) and we headed a little closer to home.  We stayed the night in Little Rock.  The next morning we headed to Memphis where I met a cousin for mass and lunch before heading back to Nashville.  It was so nice to see him and spend a little time there. 

I've spent a lot of time this year trying to stop and visit.  I'm trying to remember to savor the family that I have left.  The Dad and I have been isolated for far too long.  At first we lived 500 miles from all of our family and once we moved back here, the business and insanity of all that we had come to be took over.  I'm living my life now.  I'm starting to enjoy a few things that I had forgotten about.

I am tired of the same problems.  Today I feel as if I need to stay parked in my home and just rest.  Some days just feel as if things will never change.  Honestly, I know that many things are so much better.  But, other problems weigh me down.  Maybe it is the fatigue from the weekend.......You have all been there.  While I am taking today to just chill, I'll get back out there tomorrow.  But, while I'm in, I'll be praying for all of you guys.


 

Ramblings

I'm thinking of moving my blog to wordpress.  I'm not certain, but I think I need a fresh look and a fresh start.  I guess I'm having a mid (actually 2/3) life crisis/awakening......  There are just sixty-four days left till I turn FIFTY.  I can't believe it.  I don't feel fifty.  In my mind, I am still young.  Maybe I'm in my late twenties, early thirties max.  But, then I look in the mirror and holy crap, there is a middle aged woman staring back at me.  I went to my hometown this weekend for a bridal shower and  I ran into a few people that I knew from high school and they were old people.  How did this happen?

I'm going to weigh in today.  We missed last week because the meeting was cancelled for snow.  Today the temperature should reach seventy.  Welcome to middle Tennessee weather.  I'm always a little nervous about the weigh in, even though I weigh at home every twelve hours day.   I know I've passed ten pounds as two weeks ago I was at 9.4 lbs.  Just like my dad, who used to will winter away, I am willing the pounds to melt.  And, yes acceptance is something I'm still working on, thank you very much.

Lastly, I'm writing a book.  I've been thinking of doing it for three years.  At first, I wanted to write with some friends.  But, I had enough problems trying to figure out my own part, much less knowing how to coordinate it and organize it with another.  I've never really given up on it.  Maybe, it will be only for my family.  Maybe it will get published.  Whatever will be, will be.  But, these things I decided to do and follow through with in this my fiftieth year. 

I watched Oprah last night.  I watched the first episode of Lindsay (Lindsay Lohan documentary) and her interview with Russell Brandt.  I'm so glad that she (Oprah) is giving attention to the epidemic problem of addiction.  I'm really rooting for Lindsay but how many of you moms out there wanted to swoop in there and clean her hotel room and tell her that she needed to divest herself of all of that STUFF?  Maybe it's just me, but I also wanted to say, "go buy yourself a little cottage in the country or by the ocean......how can you possibly get clear in the noise of the city and with paparazzi?" 

Yes, I still go to Al Anon (regarding previous paragraphs).  But, I think I have such good ideas......Loving the sunshine today!  Hang in there my friends, spring is on it's way.  Praying for you all.
 

Gifts of Addiction

I've been asked to chair the next Al Anon meeting.  That means you lead the meeting and choose a topic for discussion.  Sometimes I need to deal with something in particular such as fear.  But other times I thumb through the index and I wait to see what topic jumps out at me.  This week I didn't really have a pressing need to focus on a particular topic so I started to thumb through the index. 

There were several topics that jumped out at me.  I wrote each of the topics down on a piece of paper.  I thought that maybe I'd take some time to see if one topic spoke to me more than the others.  I believe that Al Anon works that way.  God will choose and I will deliver the topic.  I finally looked at my list and instead of looking at each individual item, I looked at the collection as a whole and realized that they were all gifts of addiction.  You might think that they are gifts of a twelve step program or gifts from my faith or gifts from counseling, but really if it hadn't been for the disease of addiction, I would not have sought the changes learned from each of those avenues. 

Addiction has changed me.  Addiction has made me humble, loving, mindful, accepting,  aware, present and grateful.  Addiction has taught me not to be afraid, judgmental, mind other people's business or expect. 

I'm so grateful that I am in process.  I don't think it ever would have happened without addiction.  Maybe it would have, but addiction did happen and I am changing as a result.  Make no mistake, I would never wish this disease on my son.  But, it did happen and I will be grateful for the gifts that were given in the midst of the heartbreak.  I was wondering if any of you all felt the same way.  If so, what one thing really changed about you?

On another note, I have lost 9.6 lbs....as of last Monday.  I will weigh in tomorrow afternoon at 4pm and I feel as though I've lost another 1-2 lbs.  I'll let you know later.  It is a slow process but I am thankful that I am facing a lifelong struggle. 

My niece just had her fourth child!  Her mom was an alcoholic.  I used to say that she was an alcoholic and my brother's drug of choice was her......I didn't know the term co dependent but I knew what it was....even then.  I'm going to go see her and take her dinner and a ODAT or Courage to Change.  I've never asked her as an adult how she dealt with it.  I guess we didn't talk about it much.  I think it's time I asked.  I'm praying for all of you.

Look Back but Don't Stare......

Sparkling sunshine and sixty-three degrees are responsible for the spring in my step today.  I can't get that "Happy" song by Pharrell Williams out of my head either.  I think that  has to do with getting on the scales this morning.  I seem to have a pattern.  I will be at a certain weight ( number) and then it will go down a number and the next day back up again for a few days and then down until it settles there.  This morning I skipped a whole number!  I've been going to Weight Watchers for four weeks....actually five but four weeks of weigh-ins and I've only lost 7.2 lbs.  I know it is respectable but skipping a whole number is pretty cool when it's been slow progress.

The Son had been doing really well until the weekend and we saw a slip.  Granted, he has never given up alcohol altogether so it was/is inevitable.  But, it brings you back to those old fear and worry places.  The Dad is having a particularly tough time with the anxiety it brings.  It's hard to detach from worry when he is worrying so.  I need to distance myself from it and he wears it all over his face.  I guess we are both at different places in our journey.

Big Sister is having panic attacks over finances.  She is now financially independent, at least until she goes to grad school in the fall.  She is about to begin some research with a professor from her undergrad program and she has to spend money to register the research.  She has application fees for grad schools, she has to be a bridesmaid in a friend's wedding.........It seems unending sometimes.

Some of my "birdies" from the Homeward Bound program are out and taking steps to life outside.  They are a little like my scales...up and down until they settle one way or another.  They help me learn to manage expectation.  I catch myself getting tied up in their progress.  The new class is really going well.  Each class seems to carry it's own tone.  This class is an eager one for healthy change.  Investing yourself into the cause of addiction is very difficult when you aren't that great with slow change.  I guess God is teaching me patience. 

Hoping you are all doing well.  Oh, the title came from my Al Anon meeting last night.  I loved it.  Praying for all of you.

 

Looking Back on the Past

I just printed off all of the blog posts that I have written since the beginning.  Two hundred forty-four, single spaced pages.  Sometimes I don't like going back to read because it's so hard.  Sometimes I do because I am able to see some progress.  I'm going to go have it collated.  Here is the proof....proof of a long fought battle for quiet acceptance, proof that our awareness was awakened and continues to grow, proof that in a empty space that mainly housed only me and my fears, now resides a  space full of love of God and his will, with me close by allowing him to show me the way to myself. I wonder if any of you guys have ever done the same? 

A new session has begun at the jail.  I met the ladies for the first time on Thursday.  I am only offering a creative writing workshop this time.  I am relieved that I am not facilitating a class that I do not feel qualified to teach.  I guess some could argue that I am not qualified to lead a writing workshop but my goal is mainly encouraging them to look in and question and effectively communicate with themselves and others. 

I watched a great segment on writing obituaries on Saturday.  I must admit that I love reading them.  There has to be some really great stories tucked in those interesting snapshots of a life.  I learned that in Great Britain, their obituaries aren't always flattering.  I've included one of my favorites to give you a "happy" for today. 

Yesterday I got to spend the entire day alone.  To many, that may sound lonely but to me, it is a necessary part of my sanity.  I need quiet to allow myself to look in and be present with my feelings.  Then, I am able to understand them, deal with them and let them go.  I'll probably turn into the odd little blue haired lady who kids are afraid of before it's over.  Oh well.

I'm beginning to day dream about warm coastal breezes.  I fantasize about winning the lottery and packing only an overnight bag and checking flights not for price but warmth, buying a one way flight and staying as long as I feel like it, shopping for the proper clothes when I get there, eating delicious food and taking a huge stake of books.  Can you imagine? 

The son seems to be making progress, lately.  He has a girlfriend who seems very nice.  He is paying bills on his own.  He is visiting family, hanging out with us, talking on the phone with friends while staying in the same room where we are ( I know that a lot of you get how big that is), trying to quit smoking and making future plans. 

Big Sister is working as a vet assistant until the fall when graduate school begins.  She is paying her own way which was a little shocking to her at first but I'm really proud of the job she is doing.  She is even replacing the tires on her car this week.  That is a big financial burden off our plate.  I'm really proud of her.

Little Sister is quite excited about nursing school.  I purchased hot dogs at the grocery store so that she could practice IP shots!!  It's so funny to look at these kids that I remember so vividly as the little characters now enter adulthood taking on grown up responsibilities.  It's been great finally letting them go.  They are so much more than I could ever force them to be.......

This reason we are all here is the darndest thing, isn't it?  It almost broke us and yet, it has changed things in the most wonderful ways.  I guess that is what I will look for when I read about the past. 

Praying for Henry, my family and yours. 





 

Ramblings of a Troubled Co Dependent

It's super bowl Sunday and we are expecting our friends and their children in a couple of hours.  It is a low key, no stress kind of entertaining as these friends have been our friends since moving to Tennessee almost twenty years ago and I can say, "this is the food I've planned to make, fill in the blanks...." and it's all good.

The dogs surprise me more and more as time goes by.  Their vocabulary seems to constantly grow.  I mentioned that I was going to go upstairs to the Dad and out of nowhere, they appear, tails wagging ready for an adventure.  They also know breakfast, supper, potty, treat, bone, outside, walk and bath (which sends them into hiding). Come and bad are words that suddenly make them appear deaf.

I often go to the open AA speaker meetings.  It is really enlightening for me to hear their stories.  It helps me to better understand my addicted loved ones.  Their words give me hope. Many times I get a little down when something happens that makes fear rear it's ugly head,  whispering in my ear that things will never change.  But, when I hear the ups and downs in their stories, I can step back and see that "it takes what it takes."  I can see God in their stories over and over again and those stories remind me to get the heck out of the way.

One of the girls from the Homeward Bound program at the jail asked me to help her by giving her a ride to a court date.  I am so hesitant about getting involved.  I have this tendency to know just how to solve the worlds problems go a little overboard to the point that I forget about my own life.  I didn't know whether or not to respond to her text so I began to pray about it by asking God if this need to help was really a product of my pride or if He was really calling me to help her.  It didn't take long until the loud and clear thought that entered my mind was reminding me that her mother had died while she was in jail and her Dad is in Hospice care as we speak.  This twenty-two year old literally has nobody. 

I felt OK about my decision but I have to say that I am concerned that I will go too far.  She kept offering to give me $20.00 to take her.  She has never gone to meetings.  I always try to encourage her to give them a try.  So I said, "if you will go to 6 AA meetings, we can call it even."  She said, "if you will take me, I will go."  Now I am thinking....no screaming, in my head, you are going too far....you are trying to control......  I was sick about it.  I prayed, "Father, I don't know if this is me and my pride trying to fix this or me trying to follow your will....show me what to do." 

We went to the meeting and I must admit that she was not exactly a girl who knew how to pay attention and respect when another is talking and she lacked a few of the "softer skills" so I was nervous.  I thought if this goes bad, there is no one to blame but you.  But, it was really good.  She was so afraid to try it and she was able to see that it was actually good.  I am hoping that she can make some good connections and the program will take over in the miraculous way that it does of bringing in the broken helping them on their journey of self discovery, understanding and healing only to send them out to serve others.

Maybe you can all help me to be accountable by reminding me to  stay out of her way.  Looking forward to winter's end, my friends.  Feeling hopeful and remembering you in prayer.

 

Just a Hot Mess

I've missed a lot of Al Anon meetings over the last two months.  My brother was in the hospital in Nashville which is a lot closer to me than his family so I spent a lot of time there.  Then I got a terrible head cold and by the time I got better second Polar vortex had arrived and I just didn't like leaving the house.

Last night I went back for the first time and was greeted with big warm hugs from folks that I really had missed seeing.  We started out small and so we gathered around a round top table.  It was still very cold (single digits) and so we didn't expect a big crowd.  But, little by little people began to trickle in, until we had twice as many folks at our table as it would hold so we just scooted out a bit.

There were a lot of newcomers.  After our meeting got underway, a lady in a wheel chair came rolling  in and when we asked, "looking for Al Anon?" (we often get people looking for the AA meeting which is in another part of the building) she said "well yes since AA was not wheel chair accessible."  She went on to mention that her father was an alcoholic so she felt this meeting would be good too.

We began going around the room talking about various slogans and how they were meaningful in our lives.  The newcomers began sharing mainly about their qualifier, which I guess we have all done in the beginning.  But when we got to the handicapped lady, things went out of control. She started fussing about steps one through three.  She let us know in no uncertain terms that she didn't believe in what they said and wanted to make sure that this wasn't a Christian meeting.  Our GR explained the spiritual nature of our meeting, explaining that it isn't religious. 

When the meeting ended she left before we prayed so that she didn't have to be present for a prayer.  Then she returned to get phone numbers.  We offered her a bottle of water and she began to open it with her teeth.  I asked her if she'd like help opening the water and she was furious.  "Isn't it just like you codependent people to want to fix everything for everybody?"  She didn't stop there. She went on and on and on about how she was perfectly independent and was capable of doing anything she wanted anytime.  I told her that I was sorry and that yes it was just like a codependent person to want to fix it. 

But, man she got under my skin.  And I spent the better part of last night and today trying to figure out why.  Now let me just throw the disclaimers out first.  I know very deeply in my heart that she needed that meeting as much or more than I needed my first meeting.  I know that she struggles ten times harder than I do in doing ordinary everyday tasks. 

Why did this bother me so?  I decided that part of the problem is that every time that I need to apply my Al Anon principles to a new situation, I have to rethink it. Secondly I didn't really want to fix her ( honestly I did want to fix so many other things she mentioned) but not her ability to open her water bottle, I just wanted to be polite.  I can certainly see how she would be hypersensitive about her ability to take care of herself but what I don't know is where the boundary is with regard to offering  help or fixing.  I don't know how to be politically correct, at all.  I tend to be more direct. 

I questioned myself over and over....Was I trying to be controlling?  When I listened to her bash the first three steps, I must admit that I was not thinking warm fuzzy thoughts. I would have loved to have said, "why are you here?  If you don't like it, then there is the door."  Was I allowing my negative thoughts influence the way that I treated her?

My usual sanctuary that is my Al Anon group was not there.  I'm sure this is something in me that I need to look at and address....I'm just not sure what.  Any ideas anyone?  I'm gonna pray about it and I'm gonna keep praying for all of us and our addicted loved ones.

Pray For Me

The first thing that our new Pope said after being elected was a request for the people to pray for him.  Prayer is so important.  In the beginning of this madness, I wanted to fix the world for my son, then I wanted to fix him.  I met a priest that told me about how he lived in bars prior to going into the priesthood.  One day his brother asked their mother why she didn't go into the bars and drag him out and let him have it.  She told her son that she had a much better chance of fighting for his brother on her knees than she ever would going after him in the bars.

It was a bigger lesson than I could ever imagine back then.  I began praying by telling God what to do.  Later I learned a lot about myself by paying attention to what and how I prayed.  I began to change my prayer from little requests like help him to do this or that to simply heal him.  I began to understand that all these things that I deemed normal were not necessarily things that would mean healing for my boy.  I started to see and accept that I didn't know what it would take to heal my son. 

Now I am realizing that I need to pray for myself.  I need to be healed.  I need to know how to be a mother who loves unconditionally in the midst of addiction.  I need to love without judgment.  I need to pray for continued awareness.  I need to pray without ceasing. 

Things are different now.  I don't really know if they are good or bad.  I don't know if my son is using or not.  I don't know if he's better or found a new way to manipulate.  And, I just don't know how to stop trying to manage him.  So, I ask for your prayers.  I realize that I am still not minding my own business.  Boy am I a slow learner. 

It's really strange weather here tonight.  It is supposed to drop 50 degrees overnight.  The wind is blowing up to 30 mph.  I've missed reading all of your blogs.  I've been tied up at work but should hopefully get back to a normal schedule.  I also cut my pinkie on a can of pumpkin and had to get six stitches on Christmas eve!  Luckily my best friend is married to an orthopod and so he stitched me up.  It is unbelievable how much you need your pinkie.  Typing has been a nightmare.

Well, our tree is down.  We put it out by the curb for the city to pick up and it has blown all over the place since the wind has picked up.  Hopefully we will get back to some version of normal.  The days get longer.....my favorite time of the year is on it's way.  Praying for us all.

 

Three Steps in Three Years

A couple of days ago, the Dad and I received a call from the Son's work.  It was 6pm and the Son was supposed to be at work at 4pm.  He was a no show and they were worried about him.  He had been late for the last two days.  This is the kind of call we all worry about receiving. 

The Dad called one of his friends to see if he knew how to get in touch with him (his phone had run out of minutes).  He hadn't heard from him.  So the Dad decided to drive to the city to try to roust him in his apartment.  Of course our first thought, as many of you can easily guess was, "will we find him alive?"

I didn't go with the Dad.  I calmly said that I just didn't think I could go not knowing what we'd find.  He agreed.  He thought that I should stay home.  Five minutes later the Dad came through the door and said, "he's alive."  His friend managed to find him and he called....... drunk, but he called.

The snowball is starting to roll downhill fast.  And yet, it is sadness that I feel, instead of panic.  All day yesterday I started thinking about the way that I was feeling.  I started to wonder if my heart had grown hard.  The feelings are so different than they were before.  Yes, I am worried.  I know where this is headed.  I know that things will get radically worse before than have any chance of getting better.  But, still I'm not a nervous wreck.  I'm not pasting on a fake smile.  I am a little sad.  I am tired from the ups and downs of this disease.  But anxiety has mostly left the building.

Last night I was to choose the topic for our Al Anon meeting.  I wanted to talk about this most recent experience and so I was trying to get to the root of what had changed.  What had happened to make this frightening experience bearable?  And then I realized that for the first time, I had actually 'made the decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of God as I understand Him.'

Finally, I knew that this madness was out of my control.  Finally, I accepted that God was the only thing that could restore my sanity and finally I decided to allow God to handle this because He knows far better than me.  And, there is peace in this madness.  The anxiety is gone. 

I've been in Al Anon for three years.  There have been a number of times where I've thought that I "had" the first three steps.  But, really it took three years to really get it.  I realize that if I am not careful, I can go right back to insanity.  But for today I am grateful for a loving God who is at the helm.  I am grateful for rest while in His care.  I am grateful for my Al Anon family group. 

Praying always for you and your loved ones.

 

Without Condition

Within the last three weeks, the Son has lost two people that he knew from his first rehab experience.  It has been a very sobering experience for all of us.  The Son is very hurt.  Addicts have a really hard time dealing with pain.  He came to visit and things weren't going all that well between us.  The Dad wisely reminded me how difficult it is for an addict to handle pain.  "Pray for him and love him" he said. 

It was the message that I needed.  Fear had me panicking about the way he was behaving.  I was reacting.  But when I was reminded to pray and love, I started to see the Son as someone who was heart broken and afraid.  Instead of looking for what I considered as "right" behavior, I could see him.  I could see his hurt. 

I shut my mouth.  I just loved him.  I prayed for him to have the desire and courage to work towards his own health.  Then out of the blue he started reading one of the many books on recovery that are on our shelves.  He asked if he could take it home. 

Today, he opened up to me more than I EVER remember.  He shared his concerns and let go of some of the toxic feelings that he's so good at carrying around.  It was truly a miracle.  It was an unexpected gift.  And I believe that it all happened because this family is attempting to love the right way.

My mom died 15 years ago today.  I think she's praying for us.  Feeling thankful and praying for Henry and all of you.

And the Weather Outside is Frightful....

     I am a world away from my life, at present.  I am in not so sunny southern California while my husband attends his annual continuing education conference.  We left the day after emptying the contents of the home that we raised our children in.  The corrupted home where my son began and continued to use drugs under my very nose.  The home where on October 19th, I left with him in tow to detox in a psychiatric hospital before entering a 12 step immersion retreat, telling him, "you will never come back to this house again," as if the home itself was a cause of this problem.  And, while I know that it is not, I do feel that that house is an ugly reminder of many things gone wrong.  I do know that I would always worry that it would be a trigger for him.

     Not only am I a world away from the life I knew physically, but emotionally and mentally.  The move is a physical change that comes about to mark a lot of interior change happening in the heart and mind of this family.  This trip was one for peace in mind and heart.  It is a trip to begin a practice of letting go of everything to the wisdom and guidance of my heavenly Father.  It is a relief, in fact to have traveled to this place.

    While I have made many steps in the right direction, I have many more to go.  My son's time at this program is creeping ever closer to a close where he will embark on the next, not so safe step, in his recovery.  He will enter a recovery house as soon as he leaves that program.  So, letting go will be tested again very soon.  This has entered the minds of both me and his dad as the dad woke very early this morning to a nightmare of the son coming home high. 

     There is a lot of work to do to travel to the place of "holy indifference".  But, it is the destination.  Today, I am thankful for the sale of our home.  I am thankful that the move is complete.  I am thankful for recovery for our son.  I am thankful for a simpler lifestyle.  I pray for continued recovery for all of our addicted loved ones and as always, I say a prayer for the soul of Henry.

    

 

Building Back.....

My Dad, the son of Henry, the alcoholic, died in 2002.  He fathered six children and left no debt and a little money to each of us.  When I got my money, I felt so guilty.  He had to fight so hard to even make it through the eighth grade.  He worked to feed his family since he was a young boy.  He left for  Europe during WW2 when he turned eighteen, and spent 2 years and 8 months there.  He worked very hard to make my life always feel safe.  And, he did.  I feel unworthy of the money he left.

A little over two years ago when we first realized my son suffered from drug and alcohol addiction, I offered up to God (like I had the power) any and all of my worldly goods if he would just save my son.  I don't think you can really bargain with God.  But, we are selling our home and divesting ourselves of a lot material possessions.

The idea of moving from our home of 18 years was a little sad for me at first.  Now, you can't get me out of here fast enough.  After the last round with son, this place feels more like a crime scene than a home.  Nonetheless, I have been feeling a little sad.  And, I could not figure out why.

On Saturday, we took a load of furniture to my hometown, to my sister's garage to store.  Oddly enough, she lives in my parents old house.  One of the items that I chose to keep was a bookcase that I bought with the money from my father's estate.  I just couldn't sell it.  I must admit that it was a little humbling to return there with some of my last worldly goods. 

Yesterday, hubby moved his horse to a boarding stable.  I dreaded it so much because this home and this farm was his dream, not mine.  I feared that it would be very difficult for him.  I saw a little pain on his face and a little sadness in his eyes, but, like me, we have learned what things are of value.


There are so many emotions swirling around in my head.  I'm not really sure how to sort them.  But, the one thing that kept entering my mind was the verse from Genesis 3:19:

By the sweat of your face You will eat bread, Till you return to the ground, Because from it you were taken; For you are dust, And to dust you shall return."

Now, I know that I am not dying.....but perhaps there is a death occurring, one which involves a way of life.  The old unhealthy way that we have been living...maybe that is what we are dying to and it is becoming visible in my mind. 

After a very loaded day of emptying, son called.  He sounded so very good and clear.  Daughter came home and commented on how good Dad and I seemed together.  This is how I choose to build back my home.  Thanks be to God.

Today, I am thankful for this insight.  I am thankful for the opportunity for my son.  I am thankful for starting over.  I am thankful for all of the bloggers out there who pray.  I pray for all of our sons and daughters and I say a prayer for Henry.




 

A Little Lost

  Trust is a detachment from control ( my definition...don't quote me).  I'm having a spectacularly difficult time resting in faith, right now.  My house is exactly one week away from closing, if all goes well.  I sit here typing while waiting on the appraiser to arrive; the last item on the list of things to do before closing.  It makes me a nervous wreck.  Tomorrow we have another showing.  Our realtor does not believe in taking chances and will continue to show it until the ink dries.

Son is at his 12 step immersion retreat and the counselor called saying that he was doing well but moving slowly with regard to the first step.  So, now I'm worrying about that.  Why oh why do I do this?  Someone please tell me how to turn this off.

I want so desperately to do things differently this time around.  As I sit here to write, I start to dig out my feelings and I think that I am afraid to accept the possibility that he might not make it.  I am afraid of totally letting him go back into addiction because if he does, I will not be able to afford to put him in a safe place to recover.  I am afraid of this disease taking him completely.  I am afraid to entertain the thought of burying my son.

There it is, my greatest fear.  And some how, my worrying about the fact that he is struggling with the first step leads me straight to the worst possible scenario.  I wonder if parenting a child who suffers from drug addiction counts for time off in purgatory? 

Today is another day in the desert.  I'm so tired of of the mountains of worry here.  I hate addiction.  I hate feeling so lost.  I know that God has been so good.  I know that I could turn all of this around and look at it from the point of gratitude. 

He is in recovery.  Thanks be to God.  There is a contract on the house.  Thanks be to God.  He is struggling with this first step, but he's got ten other young men there to help him ( and they are trying to teach him to ask for help which they say he has trouble with) and maybe this is one big step in changing the way he does business.  Thanks be to God.

Ignatian spirituality teaches us to have "holy indifference" to anything and everything.  That requires a great deal of trust.  The reason I can't trust that much is because I want it to turn out the way I want it.  I don't trust enough to let go of my will, not all of the time anyway.

So, I sit here a little lost and fearful.  I will continue to pray for courage.  I am thankful for this opportunity for recovery for both son and for myself.  I am thankful for the contract on the house.  I am thankful for good friends and family.  I pray for recovery for all of our addicted loved ones.  And, as always one for Henry.

 

Naivete

Much of the last two years spent with my son the addict, has been  a perpetual state of observation and evaluation.  Is he using?  Is he sober?  If he's sober, is this brain damage?  Is he mentally ill?  Could this be withdraw?  (In Al Anon this would fall under the category of "my life had become unmanageable" in step one.)

Wikipedia defines naivete as the state of being naive;  having or showing a lack of understanding, experience or sophistication, often in a context where one neglects pragmatism in favor of moral idealism.


Huh......

Yep, I guess that about sums it up.

Last Sunday hubby and I drove a little over a hundred miles to a ninety nine acre property that is home to men working the twelve steps of AA.   Our son had been locked up in a psychiatric hospital detoxing for five days and then was taken from there to this property quite literally in the middle of nowhere and had been there for four days when we saw him. 

Guess what??....we saw HIM.  Nine days......and we saw him.  I didn't expect it this soon.  I know....I know....no sermons please.....I know that this is but a baby step on the long road HE has to travel ALONE.

He didn't have a car.  He was laid off from work. He was living in my house.  And, after two years of AlAnon, he was using under my very nose....AGAIN.

Let's review the last part of that definition of naivete...."a lack of understanding, experience or sophistication, often in a context where one NEGLECTS pragmatism in favor of moral idealism."

When we visited with him, we began conversations that will need time to finish and process.  Hubby did say to him a number of times, in response to things he'd say regarding his future, " I know you will figure this out."  You see if he didn't have a car or a job and he was able to do what he was able to do.........he should have no problem figuring out how to dig himself out of this. 

Perhaps there is mental illness or brain damage.....he is still a pretty sharp fellow.  I think the rub will be in channeling that resourcefullness into good.

Hubby and I are learning so much.  We now know that he can NEVER live with us again.  We are too easy. We want so desperately what is not to be, to be......and it's not.  That boat has sailed.  Our son is a drug addict.  He will live this life and die a drug addict.  In active addiction or in recovery....he is still and will always be an addict. 

Those facts don't necessarily make me sad anymore, they are just hard for parents to accept.  It is not of the natural order.  When I saw my son on Sunday, my thoughts were, 'oh wow, look at him......Thanks be to God.....he's still in there." 

But, my thoughts remind me..."don't get too close....this may not last....Drug addiction is my cross to carry.  And, as one of my favorite Dominican sisters says, " pick it up and quit draggin' it for heaven's sake." 

And so I will, with God's help and the strength He provides.  My prayer for today is one of thanksgiving for His closeness during this time.  I am thankful for all of the support we are receiving from family, friends and even strangers.  I pray for the strength to look squarely into the face of addiction leaving idealistic notions aside, and live with the reality of it.  I pray for strength in recovery for my son and yours. And, I say a prayer for Henry.

 

Fear is My Enemy

Many experts warn about the dangers of parenting out of fear.  I think there is a lot to that.  The problem is that I have a hard time stopping myself when fear arises.  I start thinking that maybe I am letting something slide instead of confronting it.  I start backsliding with the whole control issues.  I start to panic and so I behave in all sorts of weird ways that confuse the whole family.

I hate living like this but I can't seem to stop myself when he behaves in a way that I don't recognize.....which is most of the time.  It is all new.  He is really doing better than I remember in such a very long time.  You'd think that would put me at ease, but no, it gives me all the more reason to fear the past.

I guess this is where I have not let go of control.  There is where I must face the daily task of detaching.  And, I'm not really all that good at that.  We've gained so much ground.  I am truly over the moon for that.  Some days, I get greedy and forget what I have to be thankful for.  I want normalcy, whatever that is.  Maybe that's what I have and I don't recognize it.  I guess it is my norm.

Today I start a new term of the Homeward Bound program at the jail.  I get to meet the new ladies and start a new AlAnon group with them.  I really look forward to that.  After working for and with the public, it is so refreshing to work with those who are at the place where they know that they have to change.  They are thankful for the opportunity to learn a healthier way.  Working with that mind set is like breathing the sweet air after a springtime rain.

Today, I am thankful for a new fall routine.  I am thankful for sobriety even though each new step is a little scary.  I am thankful that we are really starting to show our house.  I am thankful for my kids and my husband and my friends.  I pray for strength in detaching, continued sobriety and health to all who read.  And, I say a prayer for Henry.