Acceptance

I was quite surprised at the number of comments from my last post.  My blog felt tired and I really didn't think that anyone read it.  I know that I was tired of it myself.  The comments were all so kind and caring and I am so thankful for all of you who take time to try and support me during a low point. 

Addiction is a long slog.  And, I'm not particularly good at long slogs.  It can also end tragically and  I have been so fearful of a tragic ending lately.  I think that it is because the Son has had a good experience at a 12 step immersion program and then lived in a recovery community. This last time around, we did things right for a change and so if he relapsed again, what did that mean?

I'll tell you what I think it means.  I think that it probably means that I don't have any control over his outcome.  Not even if I stand on my head, whistle dixie and bargain with God, do I have even a smidgen of control. 

Control is fear.  I know this.  But what is fear?  I asked a young man who is studying to be a priest that very question.  He says that fear is a lack of faith and a lack of faith is imperfect love.  The Dad and I talked about it today.  We both know that we can't make him want to get better.  We can't will him into a spiritual awakening.  And if the worst were to happen.....there is one thing that we know for sure.  God loves him more than we do. 

And that, is what I have to keep saying to myself to accept what is.





 

Weary Traveler

I haven't posted in quite a while.  I am weary from the ups and downs of this journey.  I have trouble losing my expectation of a happy ending.  I am finding that my faith needs to grow.  I don't really know how to love without condition....at least in a practical sense.  I don't know how to care about someone while watching them harm himself.....I can't seem to stop yelling "don't run out in front of that car" because I know he already knows better and can't stop themself.

I am tired of the stigma of addiction. I am tired of people who make fun of Lindsey Lohan and Charlie Sheen.  Can they not see how hurt they already are?  I'm tired of addicts being referred to as junkies, potheads, crackheads......I'm lost on this road and I don't really know how to get back.

I am sorry for this post but I hope that some of you might help steer me back to where I need to be.  I'm just tired.

and the Greatest of these is Love....

The son received the sacrament of confirmation last night at Easter vigil.  He took the body of Christ for the first time.  To say that we have been blessed is an understatement.  Son has just moved out of the recovery house into a little studio apartment where he can walk to mass, meetings and work. 

During this families recovery process, there is always fear, but it seems that our fears become greater when he begins doing well.  He is doing so well now that we all want to collectively hold our breath.  Accepting God's will can be so painfully frightening.  It can also be a tremendous gift.  I am learning that it is the ONLY way. 

One of the things that have been baffling to me have been that during my most difficult times, I have also found the most calm and peace, that is when I have chosen to let go and trust.  I am learning that those crosses in my life are really times of great love.  Regardless of how difficult the time is, it is a journey towards God's love.  It is the path to healing, even if I have to walk through a difficult situation to get there.

The son is learning about love.  He is learning how much he is loved.  Friends have stuck by him.  The bishop worked one on one with him, even in the midst of illness.  Prayers have come from too many places to count.  Our friends have extended a hand in many many ways.  His godparents are there cheering by his side just as hard and as loud as his own parents.  Our Lord gave the ultimate sacrifice for him and for me and for you.

Love is the healing balm....for all of us.  Today I extend prayers of thanksgiving.  I pray for continued strength for all of our loved ones who battle addiction.  I pray that we all continue to look for God's will and to have the strength to carry it out.  And, I say a prayer for Henry.

The Baby

I will soon be 49 years old.  I can hardly believe it.  I am the youngest of 6 children, the baby.  Regardless of my chronological age, I will always see myself as "the baby."   There was a fairly large gap between me and the others.  My oldest brother was almost 18 years older than me.  My sisters, who are closest in age to me are 8 and 10 years older.

Today, as a mom and a wife, when I am around my siblings, I get this little taste of still being "their little sister" and I love it.  My brother came into town the other day for a doctor's appointment and he called and invited me to come to lunch with him and his wife.  And, the dynamic that was present, was much the same.  He paid for my lunch as he always does.....always has.  And, he fussed at my salt intake and choosing to eat dessert. 

When I was little, two of my three brothers would take me to school while my mother worked. The oldest, would take me to breakfast where I would get a donut and a coke.  The youngest brother, would take me and make me eat healthy.  Yep, he was the one from lunch last week.

My brothers, doing what brothers do, wrestled with me and always let me win and play dirty.  I thought that I was so tough.  They whittled a stick (baseball bat sized) to carry in my car when I went to college.  I still have it. 

My sisters, being closer in age let me get away with a lot less.  My oldest sister was the hygiene nazi.  I remember being afraid of getting my hair washed because we had well water and a pump.  If you know anything about that you know that there will be a tiny stream of water followed by what I felt was a water boarding moment.  I remember telling my cousins that were my age to hate her because she was mean.

My other sister was more laid back but she drove like Mario Andretti and it scared the dickens out of me.  She had a convertible whose accelerator would stick and so on the way to school I would beg her to please go slow....thinking that this would keep the accelerator from sticking.  She would then threaten me by saying that if I didn't shut up, she'd go faster.

Today when I sit from my current vantage point and see the places that my life has taken me and I try to recognize the gifts that God has given me to help me navigate this life, I count my brothers and sisters as a major factor in not only my survival but as the baby, they are some of the major gifts in my life.

You see, I never doubted that I could make it through the hardships because my brothers always told me how tough I was.  I never worried about being good enough or smart enough because they made me feel like I was so smart or so talented.  I was "the baby."  I think I was theirs as much as I was my parents.  How blessed am I? 

Today I just want to be thankful for my brothers and sisters.  I want to take the lessons learned from how they loved me and I want to be the one to give those back.  I pray for all of our addicted loved ones and I say a prayer today for Henry.



 

Wounded Souls

When I went to the jail on Wednesday, one of the correctional officers came in the room to scold the ladies for trying to take a pen into the "pod area."  The ladies in this program have homework and the Homeward Bound coordinator had given them pens to use.  The rule, for them, was unclear.  This officer was clearly strutting his power in front of me. 

This show of power rattled them so much that we started our meeting talking about that.  I challenged them to pray for him for one week.  You might wonder if I think that prayer will change him in one week and the answer is, I don't know.  Perhaps, that week of prayer for my enemy will change me.   Maybe I will be able to see that he too is a victim.  Maybe I will simply recognize that I need the serenity to accept this thing as it is. 

The ladies ran the meeting this week.  They had chosen a leader who is a small very intelligent little gal who appears to be about 6-7 months pregnant.  She and her husband are both addicts.  She asked me so many questions about whether or not I would bail my son out if he went to jail.

My answer was no.  I told her that each parent had decide for themselves what their boundaries were.  She felt that her mother no longer loved her because of her decision.  She broke down while talking about it.  I told her that love sometimes looked harsh.  I told her that I loved my son enough to leave him in jail because it was the one thing that might keep him from using again.  I told her I didn't like it.  It made me uncomfortable and that if he chose recovery I would be there always every time to support him.  She could not believe that I wouldn't give him one more chance.  But, I will.  I will give him as many chances at recovery as he needs.  I just won't give him more chances to hurt himself.  In other words he has a choice.

One thing is clear in this classroom.  These ladies have been hurt and were looking for love in all the wrong places.  Another young lady has long outbursts of the giggles.  They are usually at an inappropriate time.  In the beginning it irritated me, but I ignored her.  Then I would ask if she was laughing at me....in a teasing way.  But, her recurring statement throughout the meeting was that her mom died when she was very young.

This meeting haunted me a little.  I dreamed about it the night after.  I'm not really sure why.  I am praying for the vision to learn what lesson I have to learn in all of this.  One thing is clear.  We are all wounded.  Maybe we are wounded from some terrible life event.  Maybe we are wounded because our families don't know how to show our loved ones just how much we love them in the midst of our fears.

Today I say a prayer for a clear vision for how to put on love.  I pray for the correctional officer, each lady there, their families, our families and Henry.

A Prayer For You....

Happy Valentines Day!  There is a Novena (9 days of prayer) called  the Novena to Mary Undoer of Knots.  I stumbled upon it when I googled a novena for addiction.  I must say that it takes a little discipline to do as it is includes praying a rosary in the midst of this novena.  But, it has brought me such great peace.

It has been a hard day.  There are all sorts of knots created by the chaos of addiction.  The knots of unpaid bills, knots of probation, knots from failing to deal with life for a very long time, knots of being without a car, knots of starting from behind, knots of fear, knots of shame, knots of anxiety, knots, knot, knots....

So today in this second day of lent, I will put on the armor of prayer.  If you find yourself in need of said armor, please feel free to follow this link. 

Today, I pray for all of our addicted and non addicted loved ones, whose knots are stealing the joy from their lives.  I pray to Him who is Love to heal us and guide us.  And, I say a prayer for Henry.
 

That's What Love Really Looks Like

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As many of you know, I volunteer at the local county jail.  It started out as a as a substitute position for the ladies who took an Al Anon meeting to the inmates.   The ladies who are selected to participate in the program are lucky to actually benefit from rehabilitation unlike the general population of the jail.  It is an honor for an inmate to be selected.  They are offered classes where they can receive their GED, parenting classes, personal finance classes, various churches take their programs there and there is celebrate recovery, AA, NA, etc. Now, I go every week with the hope of possibly offering a writing class in the future.

I cannot tell you what an education this experience has been for me.  I will say that they feed me when I go.  And I will give you an example.  Last Wednesday was our first class for the new "semester".  It was an entirely new group of girls/ladies.  One thing that you can count on in a new class is that a fair number of the participants will be unable to make eye contact.  The other things that you routinely see is either a lot of self degrading talk or a refusal to accept "what is".

I am lucky.  I have ADD.  In the words of Adrian Monk, "it is both a blessing and a curse."  But, here at the jail, it is a blessing.  Because my brain doesn't always slow down to edit, they get the real honest me.  And, the real blunt, honest me, loves them.  I love them because, I am loved.  I love them because I have always wanted to fight for the underdog.  I love them because of my  Dad used to tell me stories about all of the adults who stood up for him when he was the son of a broke alcoholic.  I know the power of just one person who will care.

I am not naive about it either.  Some will continue on doing business the way they always have.  Others, like my Dad, will become great as God intended.  So going to that jail and being "God's pencil" as Mother Teresa used to say is the greatest high ever.

Last week as one inmate was trying to understand what exactly Al Anon is,  she told me that she really didn't like it that her mom could go there and talk about her, I responded, "well, that's not really my problem."  I went on to say that my answer was not intended to be mean or sassy.  I went on to say that I/her mom, needed to take care of ourselves and allow her/my son the freedom to learn to take care of themselves. 

"It's not my problem" came out before I had the chance to think.  But, when it did, I had every one's attention.  I was able to say things that they needed to hear, like:  "I could not participate one more minute in enabling him because he was killing himself.  I will not be a party to that anymore.  If Al Anon helps your mom to do the hard things to help save your life, it is her right to go there and do what she needs to do.  You make your choices.  She makes hers.  You are worth it.  That's what love really looks like. "

At the end of the class, I had every ones eyes.  Happy Happy Dance!  And, the girl who was mad said, " this is my favorite class" and others chimed in with similar comments.  As they started to leave I told them to wait.  "We give hugs here before we go."  And that is true of every Al Anon meeting I have ever been to but here, like no other place they are given more robustly and received with thankfulness.

Today I say a prayer of thanksgiving for this life and this experience.  I pray for those walking this journey with me.  I pray for my son to stay strong and keep fighting.  I pray for programs like this one to thrive.  And, I say a prayer for Henry who has certainly added to my story even though I never met him.