Gossamer Pashminas of Grace

Yesterday was a very low day.  We talked to the counselors at the rehab facility who told us that our son had sunk about as low into his addiction as possible without dying. 

That is a tough blow in and of itself but financially, we are about as low as we've ever been.  Our home is for sale and it has a contract on it.  But, if something happens to stop the sale, we are up a creek quite literally without a paddle.

While I know that throwing money on the situation does not fix the situation, I still want one good opportunity, at least, for him to have a chance at recovery.

I was frozen and feeling numb and quite unsure of what to do when my very artsy fartsy friend said, " just to endure this you have to be swathed in gossamer pashminas of grace."

And, ya know what?  She's right.  Look at this photo:   look at those beautiful hands;   All shapes, sizes, colors, experience, softness,  callouses ............those hands represent protection and prayer, I'm here for you and what can I do.  Those hands started to come to me one by one.  Each one holding onto the next, like trusses in a building, each adding strength.  Until, I feel ......like I'm gonna be okay.  I've got a current of prayer, protection and strength encircling our family.

How did those hands come together?  One friend showed up with a check to loan us the money for almost 60 days rehab.  No questions asked.  More than that, she showed up crying for my son and me.  Another friend offered to fund the remainder of that amount if the house doesn't sell.  A family member is working on getting scholarship money for us.  I've got novenas and other prayers coming from friends and family, 80 Dominican friars, and 6 lovely little inmates at the county jail where I volunteer. 

Those gals also gave me serious pep talks and being recovering addicts themselves, they spent the hour telling me what it is like for the person detoxing and what not to fall for.  They had asked how we found out and I told them about my husband finding him.  I also told them that it was kind of surreal how calm I was this time around.  One of the ladies said to me, " it was because you knew.  Before, you weren't sure.....you were drug testing him....hoping he wasn't but really....you knew."  I think she is right.  They ministered to me.  They are praying for me.

Don't you imagine that God is smiling?   My heart is full.  I may  have a long road ahead, finances may be tight but I am the richest person I know.  Today I am so thankful.  God does provide.....what we need, when we need it.  I am thankful for the gift of friends from every place....my village which I am so thankful and proud to be a part of.  I pray for recovery for our addicted loved ones.  And, as always a prayer for the soul of Henry, my grandpa.
 

I love you, Daddy...

Tomorrow the family will drive out of state to my father-in-laws house to cook for him and spend the day in celebration of Father's Day.  If my Dad were alive he would have been 90 years old.  I can't tell you how much I miss him.  And, it really surprises me.  I always loved my dad but I wasn't as close to him as I was to my mother.  But, when he died, it was if a big part of him stayed with me. 

My Dad's father was Henry, the alcoholic in this blogs title.  Daddy was so feisty and sweet, all rolled up together.  He was tough but honest and willing to give so many others a shot that they might not have gotten otherwise. 

Later in his life, he began buying rental properties.  They were little, inexpensive homes in need of love, money and some elbow grease.  We teased him a lot calling him the slum lord.  But, he would take these homes and clean them up, repair what needed repairing, give them new paint and floors and rent or sell them to folks that might not have been able to come up with a down payment or bank financing. 

To this day, I  run into people who will tell me that they wouldn't have ever owned a home, had it not been for my father.  I am still so proud of him.  Because my Dad....my lovely sweet Dad, grew up with an abusive alcoholic father that sent him to work instead of school and took that money to drink, and as the son of that sharecropper he never had a home of his own until he married my mother and he knew what that meant to someone and he gave back. 

So today on the eve of Father's Day I want to offer up prayers of thanksgiving for my Dad.  I am so thankful for the man he was and the lessons he left me.  I pray for our sons and daughters, that they might have healing.  And, I also pray for the soul of Henry.

 

Renewed Strength

Yesterday, I went to a benefit for the rehab center that my son attended.  It was a luncheon to benefit the women's program.  The featured speakers were  mother and daughter,  who had written about their experience with addiction.

They did a wonderful job.  They spoke in the same fashion that their book was written in.  A certain event or memory would be discussed by both mother and daughter; Each from their own perspective.  For me, it was most enlightening.  The mother would record a memory and I could totally relate and understand her point of view.  Then,  the daughter would speak and she would talk about her response to her mother and it would resemble the same angry, manipulative response I might have gotten, oh a thousand times.  But, underneath that anger and desperate physical need to support her own addiction were memories of right and wrong and worry over her  mother.

The daughter started the talk by discussing a moment where she received a spiritual awakening....on a floor of a bathroom, blood dripping down her nose, with no idea how she got there or where she was.  One thing she felt sure of was that she was probably dying.  She lay there feeling her breathing grow more shallow with each breath.  She said that her main feeling was how sad it would make her mother to learn that she died this way.

This gave me hope.  I always worried that his thinking might be permanently altered.  And, maybe it is, but maybe it has been taken hostage by addiction.  Lately, I have been the "holier than thou" gal in the house.  I might be, but it is not my intent.  My intent is to bring all the "boogers" out of the closet and expose them for what they are so that my family can be heal itself and grow closer.  The day in and day out anger makes you start to question yourself. 

Yesterday, that talk renewed my strength.  It reinforced that I am fighting addiction and it fights dirty.  I will not let discouragement get the better of me.  I will close my mouth and lean in to this storm as I walk through it.  I will imagine that I have an actual "lifeline" attached to me and allow our Lord to help me to walk through all of the anger and bombs that will go off along my path.

I am not angry.  I have not been perfect in my life.  If I got what I deserved, I'm sure I wouldn't be able to take it.  So, I am thankful for God's grace and help.  Today, I pray for continued direction.  I am so thankful for my beautiful cousins who spend a lot of time and money helping the cause of addiction and for being there for me with love and concern, yesterday.  I know our grandmother is smiling from above.  I am thankful for those who aren't afraid to tell their stories no matter how bad.....that is the epitome of courage.  I am thankful for all of the prayers that you all send and I say a prayer for Henry.

We are Family

My mother had six children.  She grew up during the depression.  She survived a tornado and a flood, each destroying the home that she was living in.  She lived during World War II. One of her children almost died as a baby, one lost an eye in an accident, two boys were sent off to Vietnam one was wounded, one daughter was diagnosed with a cyst in her brain and all of us drove her crazy from time to time.  Her favorite brother was killed in a tragic fire.  She worked very hard all through her life.  She battled diabetes for over half of it.  She was one strong woman.

I remember growing up thinking that I didn't think that I could withstand all of those very difficult times.  She was such a meek, quiet, kind hearted, loving woman.  She never really got too rattled.  She never really threw a fit.  I am sure you are wondering how I could possibly be her daughter.  Growing up I heard over and over the story of how she received the news that my brother had been wounded in Vietnam.  Apparently, she thought that an official only came in person to deliver news if there had been a death, so when a sheriff and a military figure drove down our driveway she ran outside took off her shoes and started throwing them at the officers yelling at them to get off of her property!!!  If you knew just how quiet my mother was, you would really appreciate that story.  She calmed down and profusely apologized when she realized that my brother was wounded, on his way to the states, and would be okay.

I have a cousin that is my age.  She and I spent a lot of time together growing up.  We used to take our scarves off and she would hold one end and I would hold the other across my driveway at Thanksgiving and we would charge admission to all of the relatives so that we could buy penny candy at the Kwik Pik across from our grandmother's house.  We got into all sorts of trouble fun.  She broke her leg on my skateboard that her father told her not to ride...which I encouraged her to ride.  We made up poetry for the "mean girls" that were calling her names.  We went to see Grease four times until her Dad put his foot down.  She was my maid of honor.  I was in her wedding.  Our boys were born three months apart.

Today, we share a lot more than that.  She has two children that fight a lifelong disease.  She and I worry about the scariest thing possible....the health of our children.  We have faced the one thing that no mom ever wants to face.  We have looked the devil in the eye.  We both know what it is like to be frightened to the core.  We both know what it is like to carry the burden of worry day in and day out.  We both want to hope and still struggle to do so from time to time.  We both get caught up in worry so much so that we loose track of the big picture.

That being said, we are BOTH fighters.  We are learning new ways of hanging on.  We are learning new ways to cope.  God is so generous when we really need Him.  When I started blogging, she was one of my most avid readers and still is.  She has understood all of the fears I have.  She has commented on how different and how much the same our situations are.  She has listened and checked on me and been there.  God in His goodness has brought us out of our busy lives back to help support each other.

The really marvelous thing is that not only do we share our fears, but we really can laugh and have a good time.  We both have said that we have seen the scariest thing.  Nothing else compares to the fear of your child being sick.  We're really not so scared of other things that typically would have scared us before.  We've both mentioned (however foolish) that if someone tried to car jack us or break into our houses we'd say "bring it on, buddy,  just try it....see where it takes you."  We're two mad moms who are just looking for a good reason to start swinging!!!  But, we honestly mean it!!

So here we are.  We're becoming our mothers.  But, for us that's a very good thing.  Our mothers were sisters.  They were so close.  They were sweet and funny and I loved watching them together.  I miss them both so much.  We are facing the hardships that they did that we never thought we could face.  Life can be so hard.  She asked today why God thought we were strong enough to take this.  I have to wonder myself.

I don't want to be in this situation.  I know she doesn't either.  But, at the same time, it is here in this scary place, that all of the "crap" is irrelevant.  It is here that what's important becomes crystal clear.  It is here that I really am trying day in and day out to listen for and follow God's will.  That is a gift.

Today I have many prayers of thanksgiving for the gift of family.  I am thankful for the examples of our mom's who fought hard and loved unconditionally and taught us to laugh.  I am thankful that this hardship has given us proper vision to see what is really important and learn to eliminate " the crap"...I am thankful for a loving God who provides support when we need it most.  I pray for my son to be healed, for good health for my cousins children, for those all around us who are living with the disease of addiction.  I pray for all of the souls including Henry who never got the help that they needed.  I ask all of these things in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.  Amen