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.





 

Pedagog

I've been volunteering at the jail for almost four years now.  My church wanted some involvement so we are starting a new program to connect newly released inmates with jobs and housing and twelve step programs.  We are also offering mentors to those who wish to have one.

I offered to mentor a young girl who was just released.  She has a child and an opiate addiction.  No housing.  No job.  No license.  No car.  No family support.  I went to some friends and asked for donations and got her first and last week paid for in a recovery house.  I got clothes and food donated.  I picked her up from jail and delivered her directly to the recovery house.  Three days later, she packed up and moved out.

At first, I was angry.  Then I started to wonder if I had the right intentions.  Did I help her for my ego?  Was I helping according to God's will or Hattie's?  But, then I thought that maybe God was giving me the opportunity to learn to love without condition.  I called a couple of folks that she might be in contact with and said, " Please tell her that if she still wants a mentor, to give me a call.  No judgment."

I may never hear from her again.  She might call.  Who knows.  "It takes what it takes" as they say in Al Anon.  Maybe God placed her in my path to help me.  I have been so arrogant to think that I could save her when maybe she is saving my relationship with my own son by teaching me that you love someone mistakes and all.  You love someone who is not doing it your way.  You love someone enough to offer support even when they are doing it on their time and their way.

I look back at how I grew up.  My parents loved me.  But, their fears affected the way that they showed love.  If they were afraid, they might hold back approval or acceptance until I changed my behavior. That is much the way that I have parented all of these years.  But, I am learning.  I am learning more from those that I would least expect to learn from.

Healing started for me when I was able to get truthful....mainly with myself about all that was wrong.  Saying out loud what the problems were took a lot.  Now I realize that we all have problems.  We all have done things that we are not proud of.  All of us carry shame and guilt.

Shame wants us to keep quiet and stay sick.  And, I am over it.  I am a mess.  I just learned a very valuable lesson from a young girl who is a drug addict with the kindest heart and broken spirit and a smile that lights up a room.  So I am opening up about this ugly pride that makes me think that I can fix her and save the world. 

Funny how God works.  She might just be saving me.  Praying for us all.

 

Contemplation

I turned fifty on Tuesday.  I've been thinking about this new decade with hope.  Ever since I turned forty-nine my focus has been on fifty.  You could argue that I'm not really living in the present....and be right.  But, for me I need to look back and examine so that I can look forward with clarity and possibly understand what it is that I really want out of what's left of this life.

In the early days of dealing with my son's addiction, I held on to the past (i.e. what I did and didn't do) with a death grip.  I'm not sure why.  I guess I wanted to know why he was an addict.  I figured if I knew why then I could fix it. 

I've been on a long search trying to understand.  "I've been to at least one hundred thousand Al Anon meetings", as Father Tom Weston SJ would say.  I've been to many Saturday night open AA speaker meetings.  I've taken some weekend Ignatian retreats to better understand the Spiritual Exercises.  I volunteer at the jail in the Homeward Bound program.  And, I've bought many books.  If I laid down all of the books that I've bought in the last few years and put them end to end they would extend from my home in Tennessee to........Never mind......that is probably not information that the Dad or I want to look at too closely.

I've been looking for truth.  Like the apostle Thomas, I am looking for direction.  "I am the way and the truth and the life." Jesus said in John 14 :6.  When my Son went to his second stint in rehab the counselor met with us on family weekend.  "He's really honest.  But, he's not very truthful."  He said.

What a strange thing to say. The Dad and I looked at one another puzzled.  This counselor, this recovering addict would teach us a lot about life.  I was asked to teach a class in the jail called Moral Reconation Therapy.    I didn't really want to teach the class.  I didn't even know what the word reconation meant.  The class taught me and the students to stop making decisions based on pleasure or pain and to start making decisions on moral reasoning or right and wrong. 

Truth is what is real.  Period.  Honesty, simply put, is our perception of truth.  Growing up, if you hear that you are lazy enough, it becomes what you believe about yourself.  But, is it truth? 

I write in an effort to mine for truth.  I look back at my family looking for what is real...not what I've always heard.  There is a lot of alcoholism and addiction in my family.  What does that mean?  What does that say about me?  Does that mean that my son is doomed to live his life out in active addiction?

I've learned so much.  I am really no different than the alcoholic or addict.  At the root of it all, we all feel uncomfortable with who we are or what we think that we are.  We've been listening to those voices whether from within or without telling us that we are not enough. 

Those voices that say, "You should be ashamed of yourself."

Those voices saying, "It's your fault."

Those voices that tell you to be afraid.....every waking moment of every day.

The difference between them and me......I can have a drink and think, "no I'd rather save those calories for chocolate."  They can't.  I have diabetes and when my blood sugar drops, my hands shake and I start sweating and my body aches for sugar.  I told my endocrinologist, " I think my drug of choice is sugar."  He said, "Yes, diabetes acts very much like addiction.  You get low and crave sugar.  You eat the sugar and you feel sick again and it starts over and over again.  You can't live with it and you can't live without it.

I get that analogy.  My son has a disease just as my ancestors have.  Disease is hard to live with, no matter what the disease.  Disease, regardless of the kind  affects the whole family.  But, with addiction, nobody wants to talk about it. 

I do.

I want to respect the privacy of my son.  But, I will not let fear or shame keep me sick.  I'm not ashamed of the addict or alcoholic.  I hope one day they will find their way past fear and shame. 



But, until then, I will pray. 

For them. 
For you. 
And for Henry. 



 

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.

 

Perpetual Worry

My mama sent two boys to Vietnam.  I 've always had a hard time imagining how terrifying that must have been.  One brother was in the Army.  He had a one year tour.  He came home skinny but okay.  The other brother was a Marine.  He was shot by sniper fire in the knee because he was carrying the radio.  He came home within a couple of months of leaving but the scars extended beyond his leg wound.

I have always heard one story in particular that is fascinating to me.  I was only four at the time and because I don't have a memory of it, I rely on the memories of others.  My mother saw an official car drive down the driveway.  She mistakenly thought that if  an official came to your door, there was a death.  She must have gone into a blind panic because as these men got out of the car, she took off her shoes and started throwing them at them and yelled at them to get off of her property. 

Last week the third young man that I knew, in six months, was buried due to overdose.  This young man went to the same high school with the Son.  He was at the same rehab with the Son when he went the first time.  He also attended the second program that the Son attended and they spoke by phone to each other often.  All of those facts caused me to feel that "take off my shoes and throw them" type of reaction.

I guess things never change.  Maybe the impetus of worry is different.  But worry and suffering remain.  It is out of my control.  Those first three of the twelve steps are really the hardest to swallow.  They have layers and layers for me to understand. 

The Son struggles.  And, I struggle to accept.  But, today I do.  I guess that is all that I can ask for.  I am praying for an increase in faith, for your Henry and mine.

 

Saying it Out Loud....

Most every day, I read a daily reading from the series In Conversation With God by Francis Fernandez.  I love those readings so much.  They help me to better understand the day's liturgy.  The author refers to a lot of quotes by St. Josemaria Escriva.  So, I decided to start reading some of his writings.  My best friend is "in the know" about most all things Catholic and of all books Catholic.   She hooked me up with a lot of his books and told me that he was kind of tough!  His writings are a collection of sacred scripture blended with personal reflections from his life and experiences of others.  His most famous book, The Way, is divided into chapters on topics such as charity, interior struggle, the will of God, etc.  Then under each chapter you will find numbered snippets of practical advice.

I'll just call my friend Sue.  Sue says each snippet should be followed by the phrase, "you slacker" or some other such fitting phrase.  For example,  on the topic of character:  "Maturity.  Stop making faces and acting up like a child!  Your bearing ought to reflect the peace and order in your soul. "   You can see how fitting it would be  if you were to end that snippet with "you slacker"  Josemaria does not mince words.  I think I would have really gotten along with him quite well.  My Dad was one for brutal honesty.  Sometimes when I was young and I would go around with him to his rental properties, I would just cringe with his straight forward manner.  Today, at 48 years old, I see myself more and more like him and it happened before I knew it.

Lately, I've questioned why I am considered the bad guy for telling the truth.  I've questioned the way in which I deliver the truth and I know that sometimes I'm a little blunt.  But, other times I feel as though the truth is the truth and there is no way to make it pretty if it is not what someone wants to hear.

"You never want "to get to the bottom of things." At times because of politeness.  Other times because you fear hurting yourself.  Sometimes again, because you fear hurting others.  But always because of fear!  With that fear of digging for the truth you"ll never be a man of good judgement." St. Josemaria Escriva.

We are taught to tell the truth...sort of...but many times we are rewarded for dancing around it.  My son's addiction made this quote a reality for me...

"Don't be afraid of the truth, even the though truth many mean your death."

Saying the "A" word out loud did not make it real.  It made me face it, accept it, and deal with it.  Failure to acknowledge does not control anything......nope it allows for things to continue to be out of control.  So, I'll continue to edit my words so that I do not make personal comments but I think I want to continue to be like my Dad.

Today, I am thankful for the courage to finally confront the truth.  I am thankful for those tough saints like Josemaria Escriva and Mother Teresa (Blessed) and I am thankful for a Dad who modeled the hard stuff for his kids.  I pray my son to learn to be courageous enough to accept the truth of his life long condition and to continue to fight.  I pray for all of your sons and daughters, husbands and wives and any loved one facing the demons of addiction.  And, as always, a prayer for the soul of my grandfather, 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.

Finding Me Day 10

"God will use you to accomplish great things on the condition that you believe much more in His love than in your own weakness."

Just one month before addiction came out of the closet, my son had surgery.  He had tonsils and adenoids removed and septum corrected.  The day we brought him home, it was like dealing with a mentally ill patient.   He was in a panic and his Dad was hiding the pain pills.  No one knew what to do.  I decided that he was just afraid so I went to his room and talked him down.  I decided that even as horrible as he was that I would go in there and ignore his ugly words and just "be mom" to my son.  I had my husband bring a lazy boy recliner up there and I stayed there for 3-4 days and nights.  In many ways that decision was a gift. 

This decision to just love and care for my son brought back a closeness that I hadn't had in such a long time.  I fed him and told him stories.  We watched tv together.  He actually got me hooked on "Gene Simmons Family Jewels" and "Pickers".  We watched "Intervention" where he told me what a terribly sad show that was.  I found that odd.  I was thinking of it as hopeful but he told me that most of them would never get off the drugs.  And, still I didn't or couldn't see the handwriting on the wall. Anyway, this time together is in part why I believe that he agreed to go to rehab.

The day that my husband told me that our son had to be addicted to drugs, I looked at him like he had three heads and said, "Get Out!!  I mean it Get Out!  You will not tear my boy down."  And, in that moment, I meant it.  You see that time together was something that I never imagined having again.  I could not tell you why.  Subconsciously, I could but I hadn't been willing to look very deep.  I still remember that anger (fear) of those words and the primal need to protect my baby.  I could have taken my husband out.  Four hours later, I agreed with him.

This incident reminded me of a story that my  family has told all of my life.  I am the youngest of six children and my oldest two brothers went to Viet Nam when I was 4 yrs old.  One was in the army and one was a marine.  My mother thought that if a sheriff showed up it was only to notify the family of a death.  So, when the sheriff drove down our driveway, she ran out the front door and started screaming for them to "get off her property!"  and taking off one show and throwing it at them and then the other before bursting into tears, barefoot on the front porch.  Later we learned that my brother was wounded by sniper fire and was being sent back to the states. 

Friday night, I spoke with a family who is just beginning this journey that none of us wanted to take.  She kept asking if she should drug test him to see if he was still using.  When I asked her how much money he made and what bills he had (none) and what he had to show for the money he was making(nothing), then I said unless you want to know what he's on, no what else could he spend that much on.  I kept pointing out obvious things that I too ignored in the beginning that seemed to be so hard to accept for her. 

This primal notion of mothering is so strong.  And, I've had a few ask how I could do the things that I've done.  I think it's about changing your perception of caring.  Caring for an addict requires some counter intuitive thinking.  Caring for an addict requires a dumping of pride.  It requires rolling up your sleeves and fighting with the devil.  You need to separate the addiction from the child and fight against addiction while fighting for the child.  It is a job not for the faint of heart.  It is something that I could not have done without prayer and God's strength. 

Today, I pray for this family to have the courage to let go and let God.  I pray for my new blogger friends in their recovery journey.  I pray for the Mom's and Dads who have lost their loved ones.  I pray for those who still fight for their loved ones.  And, I say a prayer for the soul of Henry, my grandfather. 

Snowball.....

Today has been one of those antsy days.   My pre-Al Anon self would have allowed that fear and anxiety to snowball totally out of control.  But today, I look inward.  Why do I feel this way?  What is fueling this fear? 

I look at my life and realize that every little item that contributes to this out of sorts feeling is because of something that I haven't dealt with. When I don't deal with something I dread, I am being slothful.  When I ignore my diabetic diet because I'm upset over what I can't deal with, I am being gluttonous and using food instead of God to help me deal with my problems.

Oh what a tangled web we weave.  My life in the church taught me all about confession but my son's addiction taught me just how practical and necessary it really is.  It helps me to anticipate.  When I don't use the gift of confession as I should, it leads to the place I find myself in today. 

This is my cue to slow down my life.  This is my cue to pray more about my life.  This twinge of fear and anxiety is a little reminder that God is in control.  I need to pray for strength to carry out my tasks and faith to give the rest to God. 

My son's addiction gave me perspective.  I pray that I never lose it.  Today my prayer is for a good examination of conscience, the ability to discern God's will and the faith to carry it out.  And, I pray for the soul of Henry.