LAURA MARIA LAGUARDIA CATALDI: MARCH 28, 1921 – DECEMBER 8, 2012

Dear Mom,

You’re gone physically, but you’re tucked inside our hearts forever. We will go on just as we should, and just as you would have wanted. You told me, “When I pass, please be happy for me. I can’t continue to live like this. I want to go home.” And home you are.

Thanks, most of all, for showing us how to pray and how to believe. Thanks for never giving up on Jeff, even during his most addicted and traumatic times. You never quit believing that he would find his strength. You bombarded the heavens for his recovery. Thanks for always believing in Jeremy. I know how you loved his big presence, his gentleness and his charisma. You smiled with joy just by hearing his voice. Thanks for supporting me through the writing of Stay Close, when I exposed my family’s problems to the world. You were proud that we were giving back and trying to help others by sharing our story of hope. You were our intercessor, our prayer warrior.

We’ll miss you, Mom, but we will tell the world that there was once a woman of great faith named Laura Maria who taught us by her example to never quit believing, who taught us that there are times when even the strongest find their greatest strength on their knees. As you told Jeff, “It only works if you believe.”

Love you, always and forever,

Your daughter

 

STARTING EACH DAY WITH GRATITUDE: PART 2

A mom wrote to me, I just returned from Thanksgiving dinner. The highlight of the day was the conversation between my nephew and my son, both of whom are recovering addicts. They are in such a good place in their lives, looking and feeling human again. I marveled at their strength, courage and honesty. They had us in tears, we laughed so hard. I’ve learned never to lose hope. Heartfelt thanks. 

My reaction: Jeff, when he was deep in the throes of his addiction, once told me, “You believe in me more than I believe in myself.” He tells me today that I was right. Someone has to believe because without hope, all is lost. There is a Tibetan expression in which I’ve found strength, “Even if the rope breaks nine times, we must splice it back together a tenth time. Even if ultimately we do fail, at least there will be no feelings of regret.”

Today’s Promise to consider: I will keep believing and hoping, especially during the most difficult times. I will lean on God, reach out a hand to another and remember that it is through difficulty that we grow. I will take time every day for heartfelt thanks.

 

 

FORGIVENESS

A mom wrote to me: In your last entry, the recovering person wrote that the worn cowboy boots reminded her, “…of the fact that something weathered by experience can indeed be beautiful again.” This idea of weathering made me think of the ‘weathering’ we’ve had with our own parents, children and life’s challenges. Those experiences, no matter how painful at times, can be sources of huge growth when met with honesty and forgiveness on our part.

My response: We all have our own personal histories when the storms of life have tossed us around and ‘weathered’ us. I’ve traveled tough roads, not just with Jeff’s addiction, but also with cancer, divorce and other difficulties. Sometimes I’ve held resentments and have been slow to forgive others or myself. Holding onto the pain wasn’t good for anyone and only prolonged the healing.

Today’s Promise to consider: I will value the weathering in my life, those times of darkness, trauma and suffering. As heavy as they’ve been, I’ve grown through them. We’ve all made mistakes: parents, children, friends and life’s partners. Today, I’ll forgive someone else; today, I’ll forgive myself.

 

VICTORY: ONE DAY AT A TIME, PART 2

A mom wrote to me: So often with addiction we want to wipe the slate clean and start over which, of course, is not possible. Here is a quote I came across and thought you would find it interesting: Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending. I like the sound of this!  I always found it depressing that a new start didn’t solve the problem so the idea of a brand new ending is comforting to me. 

My response: Jeff once wrote, “Addiction has changed my life, made me a different person, and in many respects my life is richer because I was forced to confront myself, or die. My past is my past and I can’t turn it around or change the footsteps that follow me.” He learned that he couldn’t wipe the slate clean, but he could create a brand new ending. And he did.

Today’s Promise to consider: Our histories are ours, and they provide valuable opportunities from which we can learn. Every day offers another start, a fresh chapter or a new page in our life. The challenge isn’t about not getting knocked down, but is learning how to get back up again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

VOICES OF RECOVERY, PART 2

A mother wrote to me: I’m involved with Comunità Cenacolo in Jacksonville, Florida, a community dedicated to helping young women find their way out of addiction’s grasp and into the light of sobriety.  

Here is a photo I took of the girls’ feet before they performed at the Feast of Saint Maria Goretti. I love this picture…ballet slippers representing white for innocence and a clean life. The feet tell the story, and the worn-out shoes depict the path and suffering it took to get to this dance of redemption.

My thoughts: When Jeff and Jeremy were in school, we bought new shoes every August. After several months, their shoes showed the scuffs and tears of jungle gyms, bus rides, pick-up soccer games, recess and playing in all kinds of weather. Shoes can tell a story about life.

Today’s Promise to consider: The addict wears his own shoes, and I wear mine. I can’t understand fully his walk, and he can’t understand mine. All I can do is to stay close to my loved one and pray that his shoes come home – scuffs and all.

EXPECTATIONS AS RESENTMENTS

We can put our loved ones on the carousel, but we can’t expect them to be happy.

A mom wrote to me, Three years ago, when my nightmare began with my daughter’s addiction to heroin, my days were filled with dread and desperation. Looking back, my addict was only half of that chaos. The other half was created by me. I didn’t expect to have a good day, nor did I even think I deserved it. I felt everything was my fault because I was responsible for everything and everyone.  

I am now learning to allow others the dignity to make their own decisions and reap the rewards of their actions or suffer the consequences. I am not responsible for everyone, all the time. My experience tells me that when I set expectations for others, I am frequently disappointed.  In All My Affairs, I limit the expectations I have of others.

My reaction: The Big Book states, “Expectations are resentments waiting to happen.” Jeff’s addiction taught me that I couldn’t control his actions, even though I often wanted want to. I can plan, hope and pray that something occurs, but I have no power over anyone else. A hard lesson to learn and a harder one to accept. But my serenity is based on me letting go of expectations.

Today’s Promise to consider: Today I will let go of my expectations for others. I admit my shortcoming in wanting to control people around me, but I must acknowledge that I can’t. I will give others the dignity of making their own decisions, and I will find my serenity in making good choices for myself.


EVERYDAY GRATEFUL

Granddaughter Iysa and Papa/Son Jeremy

A grandmother wrote to me, On especially hectic mornings, when I’m trying to get out of the house and my grandbabies to daycare, I think God stops me and slows me down so that I take the time to watch my grandson run to the front door and tell me, “I really run fast,” and let my granddaughter “do it myself” as she puts on her jacket. Even if it takes an extra five minutes, she is so proud to say, “I did it.” 

I look back and wonder did I take this time with my own children or was I so busy with work, cleaning house, homework, what have you. Knowing now what I know about addiction and serenity (thanks to Al-Anon), I take the time to enjoy my grandchildren each and every day, especially during the crazy hectic times.

My thoughts: Each day is precious, but often life’s pressures pound away at the present, and I think, “I’ll hug him later,” or “I’ll talk with her tomorrow.” There are memories that are forever stamped into my heart of Jeff running around in his Superman cape or Jeremy covered with mud carrying his treasures of frog eggs and salamanders found in the stream. My sons are now men and I can’t change the past, but I can hold onto my memories and make new ones.

Today’s Promise to consider: I’m not the perfect Mom or Nonna, but maybe there is no such thing as perfect. I can only be the best I can be. I’ll forgive myself for the times I wasn’t there, and today I will be there for my children and grandchildren. I will cherish every moment.

COMMON GROUND OF TRUTH

Dr. MacAfee wrote to me: One of the gifts that you and Jeff share is the rare and open dialogue between afflicted and affected. This has been sincerely earned. When people meet on the common ground of truth, difficult though it is, healing happens.

My reaction to the above: The Big Book of AA says that sobriety can be found only through rigorous honesty. This was hard for both Jeff and me. Jeff had to be honest with himself about his addiction, and I had to be honest with myself about the mistakes I made. I also had to find courage not only to talk with Jeff about all that happened, but courage to listen and the compassion to understand.

Today’s Promise to consider: I will have the courage to find the common ground of truth. I will work with those I love to have the tough discussions required to heal. Difficult as it is, I will wade into the rough waters of discord in order to get to the other side where healing and understanding can take place. I will try.

RELAPSE and COURAGE

A mother writes: My son is still on the revolving road to recovery. He has been in detox three times, rehab (both inpatient and outpatient), in a sober house, involved in AA with a sponsor and is presently trying the suboxone route with individual counseling. My heart is broken, but I will find my courage.

My reaction to the above: The addict must learn to live in abstinence and that’s a new and scary place for him. He knows how to live in addiction, but abstinence requires skills that are foreign to him.

Relapse happened often to my son. I understood in a deeper way when Jeff wrote about a friend who relapsed, “I know that place. He was in pain, and it was too much. He used to kill it. Then he needs to keep using because the addiction has kicked in. An addict loses all sense of free will; you’re thrown back into the space of obsession, of always needing something more. I’m sure he’s scared and confused.”

Today’s Promise to Consider: Relapse scares me as a mom, but I will remember that it’s also frightening for my loved one. Learning to live in abstinence is his goal. Having the courage to stay close is mine.

LEARNING THROUGH SUFFERING (Part 3)

Our family is growing and learning, for ourselves and for baby Iysa.

A mother wrote to me: My daughter, addicted to heroin when she was fifteen, is still struggling with her recovery at eighteen. I can distinctly remember my response to crisis and insanity: justification, enabling, making excuses, detaching, not detaching, hurt, anger, love, hate and feelings that I had failed as a mother.

Working my program through Al-Anon has shown me that I can be a leader, an example and a student, all at the same time. I am not expected to be perfect. I am learning to judge people less often, enjoy moments of appreciation for little things, connect with and delight in nature, give and receive unconditional love, pray for people who make me angry, instead of yelling – sometimes!, be grateful often, and acknowledge that I’ve been blessed. I am thankful for my growth in Al-Anon.

My reaction to the above: When faced with an addiction or any trauma, it’s hard to stay grateful, but this mother’s words reinforce what Dr. MacAfee and Dr. Grant say: Suffering can be redemptive and transformative.

Today’s Promise to consider: I will be grateful for this day and I will accept hardship as an opportunity to grow. If I slip, it’s OK. I’m not expected to be perfect and I can try again. Learning is a lifetime journey.

 

 

 

 


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