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HOLIDAYS

A mom and grandmother wrote to me: When people at work talk about their kids and grandkids I feel myself die inside and hope they don’t ask me about mine because I feel such sadness, shame and embarrassment. I know my husband and I can’t let our son’s choices dictate our happiness, but I am finding it so hard to carry on with everyday life when I’m screaming inside with sadness and worry. Christmas is supposed to be a joyous time but I’m left wondering if my son is sleeping somewhere warm and if he’s safe. I feel despair. 

My personal reaction: There are four words often used to describe addiction: Shame, Secrets, Stigma and Silence. I remember well praying that no one would ask me about Jeff because I didn’t know what to say. I remember lying, “He’s fine. He’s working in Florida.” I remember trying to feel happiness, but finding it impossible. During the Christmas season, it all felt heavier.

Today’s Promise to consider: Many of us struggle with problems and although Christmas is supposed to be a joyous time, it doesn’t always feel like it. For today, I accept that life can be difficult and I pray that tomorrow will be better. For today, I am grateful for what I have. For today, my spirit will feel serenity.

 

 

THE INNOCENT ONES

Our grandchild (Thanks to Mom Aeriona and younger son Papa Jeremy)

 A mother writes: My husband and I have tried everything, even letting our son stay in jail. I don’t know how our journey will end, but I pray that he will accept the help he so desperately needs. I feel such despair and such anger that this happening to us. What makes it worse is that he is a father to a beautiful seven-year-old little boy who I worry about all the time. He is such an innocent.

My personal reflection: Addiction brings entire families to their knees. We as parents struggle and we suffer doubly as we watch the trauma extend to our grandchildren who don’t deserve this turmoil. Addiction isn’t fair and stops at nothing but full destruction. The little children get caught in the chaos and someone needs to help them through their confusion.

Today’s Promise to Consider: I will stay close to the innocent ones and allow them to share their feelings. I will be strong for them and support them always, especially when their family systems are spiraling out of control.

 

 

 

BOUNDARIES

A mother wrote to me: Today I am struggling with Staying Close as I fear my son’s addiction is taking hold of him again. Part of me wants to say Stay Away and say, “I don’t want to be your mother anymore. I don’t want to deal with your addiction anymore.”

My personal reflection on the above passage: I know this feeling of wanting to run away from all the chaos that is addiction. I asked Dr. MacAfee, our addiction specialist, and he told me, “Of course, ‘I don’t want to be your mother’ is not the same as ‘I don’t want to deal with your addiction.’ Parents cannot obliterate relationships in hope that they’ll obliterate addiction. I know that parents want the pain to stop, but rejection of and disowning their child does not alleviate the pain.

“In addition, punishing the addict won’t help either. Good, solid and meaningful boundaries can help best. Every parent needs to say what she means and mean what she says.”

Today’s Promise to Consider: I will stay close to my loved one. I will tell him what I can and cannot do and I will mean it and follow through. I will respect my boundaries for his sake. I will stay close and pray that he chooses a different life.

 

COURAGE

A dad wrote to me: Our children have to fight their addictions and win. We, as parents, will never know how hard their battles are or understand the strength they need. I think that anyone who has battled through addiction deserves a lot of credit.

My personal reaction: Dr MacAfee says, “Addiction is loss.” Recovery, he said, offered Jeff the space to rediscover his identity and, in time, the real Jeff would emerge. This was a journey that Jeff would have to do alone. I came to realize the enormity of the fight that he had to face in order to win his battle against addiction.

I once told Jeff, “You have a lot of courage to do this again.” He paused and then said quietly, almost to himself, “Courage? That’s a word rarely used with people like me. Yeah, it takes courage.”

Today’s Promise to Consider: Words like strength, courage, and hope are seldom used in the same sentence with addicts. My son and I faced journeys of despair and self-discovery. Courage: we both needed courage as we made decisions that would lead to our health and wholeness. My son chose to fight his addiction. I chose to fight my anxiety. We both chose to change.

GRATITUDE: Remembering Thanksgiving, 2004

November 29, 2004: Jeff’s email messages to his dad and to me.

Dad, Sorry about my absence on Thanksgiving. Trying to stop this craziness on my own is impossible. 

Mom, I don’t know what I need. I’ve never felt so powerless and unable to activate change. I’m paralyzed. I’m miserable and just need to get out of this situation.

My reaction to Jeff’s words, seven years later: I would like to write that these memories are distant, faded into the recesses of my heart. But I can’t. I remember well those years of chaos and destruction. I wrote, “Jeff’s words pierced me: powerless, unable to activate change and paralyzed. In California with no support system of friends and family, Jeff was coming face-to-face with himself.”

My promise for today: After a fourteen-year addiction, I know we are blessed that Jeff is healthy and sober today. Jeff fought for his life and there was nothing I could do but Stay Close. On this Thanksgiving Day, our family is deeply grateful that Jeff is home. Where there is life, there is hope.

SOMEBODY’S PRAYING

01 Somebody’s Praying

Grandmom Cataldi with Jeremy and Jeff

A mother wrote to me: I wonder how many prayers we have lifted up as moms of children in this journey? And how many prayers others have lifted up on our behalf in an effort to do something, anything to support our both tender and strong mother hearts. How many prayers are lifted up, especially during those times when there is no clear answer to, “What do I do?”       

Time heals, the brain heals, our hearts heal…little by little. I’ve come to believe that ‘little by little’ turns out to be way bigger than we tend to give it credit. Hope fuels us through the hardest miles.

I’ve attached a song about prayer that I recorded for a friend who was going through a challenge a few years ago. It was written by John Elliot and the lyrics remind us how much comfort and strength come to us through those who never hesitate to ‘pray us along.’

Dedication: This mom and I offer you the song with our love. For me, I dedicate it to my mom who bombarded the heavens for Jeff. He was always in her prayers and in her heart. She is our prayer warrior. She prays us along – all of us, my brothers and their families, me and mine. She knows no other way. Thanks, Mom. We love you.

(Please click on the link above the photo 01 Somebody’s Praying to hear the song.)

Somebody’s prayin, I can feel it 

Somebody’s prayin’ for me

Mighty hands are guiding me

To protect me from what I can’t see

Lord, I believe, Lord, I believe

Somebody’s prayin’ for me.

 

Angels are watchin’, I can feel it

Angels are watchin’ over me

There’s many miles ahead ’til I get home

Still I’m safely kept before your thrown

‘Cause Lord, I believe, Lord, I believe

Your angels are watchin’ over me.

 

Well, I’ve walked through barren wilderness

Where my pillow was a stone

And I’ve been through the darkest caverns

Where no light had ever shown.

Still I went on ’cause there was someone

Who was down on their knees

And Lord, I thank you for those people

Prayin’ all this time for me.

 

Somebody’s prayin’, I can feel it

Somebody’s prayin’ for me

Mighty hands are guiding me

To protect me from what I can’t see

Lord, I believe, Lord, I believe

Somebody’s prayin’ for me…


 


TIME HEALS

Jeff with Grandmom Cataldi

An entry from my personal journal: August, 2009: Three years sober and my son is blending the best parts of his youth with what he’s learned from his addiction. His plates have sifted, crashed together and new land had emerged. He’s stronger; he’s more himself. He’s becoming whole, fully integrated – he’s becoming who he was meant to be. As his dad once said, “I think we’re seeing the flight of the Phoenix.”

My reaction to the entry above offering my thoughts today: I don’t know much about neurology, but I’ve read that it takes several years for the brain to restore itself, to heal. When my son reached his third-year anniversary of sobriety, I saw a huge difference in him: His sentence structure was more complex, his vocabulary was richer and his ability to reflect and take time before making a decision was evident. He was taking better care of himself and was more knowledgeable about his own sensitivities.

Today’s Promise to consider: Recovery takes time and life looks different in sobriety. The brain doesn’t heal all at once. I will celebrate each victory. I will celebrate today. I will continue to hope and believe.

 

 

 

NOT ALONE

Families in solidarity

A mother wrote to me: Two of my three children are addicted to drugs and my life has been inextricably altered. The relationship between mother and addicted child is unique, but I know that that does not diminish the experiences of other family members. Through group work, I talked with another mother who just found out that her child is addicted. She is panicked, confused, and said that she feels isolated, alone, shamed, scared and angry. I realized that I am not alone.

My thoughts on the above passage: There are four S’s used with addiction: shame, secrets, silence and stigma. We feel as though we are drowning in our own emotions and we don’t know what to do. I kept the secret of my son’s addiction because I felt shame. In silence, the addiction grew. But when I reached out my hand for help, I realized I was not alone.

Today’s Promise: I will join together and bring addiction out of the shadows so it can be healed. My loved one is fighting a powerful force and I will talk with other mothers and fathers and break the silence. In our pain, I will understand; in our stories, I will find hope; in our love, I will continue to believe.

 

TEMPERED HAPPINESS

A mother wrote to me: Our healing process is a journey, too. I recognize that even if my son never fully recovers or works his life well, I have mine and I don’t want to waste it being sad all the time. I had to find a way to go on in my life and relearn how to feel joy again. It is a tempered happiness. There is always a remembrance of loss that I feel deep down, but it does not consume me like it used to.

My response to the above passage: Through Jeff’s addiction, I, too, learned that my happiness could not be dependent of the state on his life. I’ve realized that happiness is a choice and that living in a space of gratitude makes life better. As the mother above, I will not allow loss to consume me.

Today’s promise to consider: I will find serenity within myself. My happiness cannot be contingent on someone else’s choices. Even if I love him or her with all my heart, I will accept what I am unable to change. As the AA slogan says, “Happiness is appreciating what you have, not getting what you want.”

 

 

 

HUMBLED BY ADDICTION

A mother wrote to me: My son is still doing well. He has been sober now for seventeen months and, as you know, it’s still one day at a time. I don’t think I will ever totally be free from this addiction thing. I have been so humbled by it.

My reaction to the above passage: The words, “I have been so humbled by it,” touched me deeply. I was once Head of School where the system was set-up so that I was in charge; I was a boss. In the face of addiction, I learned that I was in charge of nothing and didn’t even have the ability to save my own son. In the face of addiction, I learned to be grateful for the little things like surviving five minutes. In the face of addiction, I learned that humility is a good thing.

Today’s promise to consider: Being humble is a powerful teacher. Today is not the day for arrogance or pride. I can get on my knees to pray, I can reach out my hand for help and I can ask someone to forgive me. Today I will think less about myself and my own worries and more about those I love.

 

 

 

 

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