A dad wrote: Through my son’s addiction, I learned to be forgiving and not disappointed, I learned to be loving and not frustrated, I learned to be patient and not anxious. Our children find recovery in their own way and in their own time.
My reflection: When my son was in active addiction, I never quit loving him, but I certainly was disappointed and anxious. I was also cloaked in deep fear and worry. I’m sure my son felt my emotions and, probably, registered them as rejection.
Today’s Promise to consider: We want our children to be safe, healthy, and happy, but addiction overwhelms with fear, disappointment, and frustration. The father who wrote learned how to transform his negative feelings into gestures of love, forgiveness, and patience. Isn’t that what all our children deserve, especially those who are suffering from the disease of addiction? As hard as it can be, today and tomorrow, and tomorrow again, let us choose love.
A mother wrote to me: I have three children all touched by addiction: A daughter who is doing well in an extended-care program, a son who has been in and out of several rehabs and is currently in jail, and another child who was recently arrested while in a drunken rage for fighting. We are a “normal” family, kids raised in the Church with both parents who were very involved and loving. 
A mom wrote this poem: 
A mother wrote to me: My son walked out of his fourth rehab, and in November of last year my husband kicked him out of our house, again. I couldn’t help but mourn. I lay on my bed and didn’t move for two days. He’s presently in an outpatient methadone program. His addiction has claimed him for five years. Methadone is not the permanent answer for my son, but he is doing better. His drug addiction has had such a big impact on our lives. I want to see him whole and clean and well again. His bruises on his arms are fading. 
A mother wrote to me: My daughter has been in sober houses, psychiatry hospitals, jails, and detoxes. She’s attempted suicide. Like a merry-go-round, she’s been sober, until she wasn’t. I can’t make her do what she refuses to do. If I could climb into her body, I would. But I can’t. It’s her journey.
Liz Moore wrote: In a moment of clarity, Kacey (my addicted sister) told me that time spent in addiction feels looped. Each morning brings with it the possibility of change, each evening the shame of failure. The only task becomes the seeking of the fix. The days themselves become chartable, according to how much time, in sum, the user spends in comfort or in pain. Confounding all of this are periods of sobriety, which occur voluntarily on some occasions – when, for example, Kacey checks herself into local rehab facilities with dubious success rates – and involuntarily on others: when Kacey finds herself in trouble and then in prison. These periods, too, become part of the pattern: waves of sobriety, followed by relapse, followed by larger waves of active use.
Dr. MacAfee, my son’s beloved addiction therapist, wrote to me: When people meet on the common ground of truth, healing happens. One of the gifts that you and Jeff share with the field of addiction is the rare and open dialogue between afflicted and affected. This has been sincerely earned.
A mom wrote to me: I tried everything humanly possible to save my son. And then I let go. I have so much love and gratitude for the peace I am now experiencing. I have no illusions for tomorrow. I went to three funerals of young people in ten days.
There are similarities between addiction and this pandemic. I find myself struggling with the familiar feelings of uncertainty and fear, so I talked with a friend about it. After the phone call, she wrote and gave me sensible advice, “Maybe it would be good if you took some time for yourself. Try and read a book to soothe your soul, cook, bake, meditate, or listen to music. Do whatever you can do to take care of yourself. Remember Loving-Kindness goes both ways – to others and to ourselves.”
A mother wrote to me: When I awake every morning and go to sleep every night I feel God’s presence in my life and the life of my child. My son is good today, but I know it’s one day at a time. Dealing with addiction takes courage, humility, and gratitude: Courage to stay close and to love our child; humility to remember that the addiction is strong and can come back at any time, especially when we least expect it; and gratitude for our daily blessings.
6 Comments.
View Comments | Leave a Comment