BE GENTLE

A mom wrote to me: Sobriety has not been black and white for us – drunk, then sober,  trouble, then hugs and kisses. A sober alcoholic may be unemployable, chronically depressed, riddled with rage and fear and suffer from a general lack of sober references that continue to make life unmanageable. Sobriety for us has been about accepting the “new normal” – we lived through our own private Katrina. We will never be who we were twenty years ago. Today we temper our joy with acceptance.

My reaction to the above message: We all have to accept a ‘new normal,’ especially after a long period of active addiction. It took Jeff more than one year to get his vocabulary back. There were times when he’d ‘reach’ for a word and he lament, “It’s like reaching into the fog. The word is there, I know it, but I can’t grasp it.” I remember telling Jeremy, “Your brother lived through a horrendous trauma and it changed him. We’re lucky he’s alive and with us.” In time, Jeff improved significantly, but we had to be gentle with him in the process.

Today’s Promise to consider: Dr MacAfee once told me, “The soul is too private to handle neon light, but listens wonderfully to candlelight.” Or as I believe children learn best, “The mind responds better to a light bulb than a hammer.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

PRECIOUS MOMENTS

Nonna with grandbaby Iysa

A dad wrote: I would be mindful of that precious time when your child is attempting to stay clean. There is no way to be sure if he or she will stay in recovery so take extra care to value and enjoy each moment of his sobriety. Take pictures, enjoy the love, the hugs, the smiles. Please do not focus on your fears.



My personal reaction to this entry: This dad’s reminder to focus on the precious moments is critical. I remember when Jeff was three years old and he crawled onto my lap as I was writing an article for a research journal. I continued to write, immersed in my thoughts,  until he touched my face and said, “Where are you, Mommy? How come you don’t hug me?”

Today’s Promise to consider: I will take the time to cherish each precious moment of this day. I will look into the eyes of those I love, hug them, listen to them and let them know how important they are to me.

 

 

GIVING BACK

Uncle Jeff and niece Iysa

A mother wrote to me: I work in a hospital and today we received a seventeen-year old, attempted OD and positive for opiates. I felt so helpless. I knew there was probably (hopefully) a mother, father or someone with this young addict and I wished I could have gone to his or her side to offer support. I know that feeling of being in the ER with a loved one, frightened.

I feel it’s time for me to give back, to do something. Please pray that I have the courage and strength to follow through with offering myself to speak with/be there with other families in time of need.

My personal reaction to this message: I will pray that this mom and others find the courage and strength to step forward and help others, to reach out a hand to a brother, mother, father or sister. Addiction is steeped in shame, stigma, silence and secrets. Stepping forward is not easy, but when I was young, we didn’t talk about abortion, homosexuality or even divorce. Today we talk about these issues and confront them.

Today’s Promise to consider: I will find the strength to help someone today. I will reach out a hand or lend a listening ear. I will do it simply and be present for another.

 

 

A PENDANT: worn with love

A mom wrote to me: My son came home from treatment, began AA meetings, got a sponsor and reconnected with his addiction therapist; however, this sobriety was shorter than his past ones. I know that there is no approach that will remove the pain of this struggle, but I have optimism that I have found a new way to live life as a mom with an addicted child. 

I will face this next “round” with the new philosophy. I have attached a picture of the pendant I wear. My son’s initials are on the back. My pendant is a reminder to me each moment of where I need to be in my relationship with my son as he struggles with his addiction.  

My response: When I opened this mom’s email and saw the pendant, my eyes filled with tears of gratitude that our family’s struggle had opened a possibility, an alternative way of being, for another mom. When the recovering Italian alcoholic told me, Stagli Vicino: Stay Close to him, I understood, in a new way, my role as a mom with an addicted son.

Today’s Promise to consider: I will adopt this philosophy of staying close to those I love, not just with addiction, but in all cases. I can’t fix problems for others, but I can support them by staying close.

 

 

 

I BELIEVE THE CHLDREN ARE OUR FUTURE

Papa Jeremy, Baby Iysa, Mom Aeriona, Nonna

First line from The Greatest Love of All

Sung by Whitney Houston (1963 – 2012)

Song written by Michael Masser and Linda Creed.

We offer this song popularized by Whitney Houston as a tribute to a star, a legend, who is responsible for some of the biggest music of her era. She battled drug addiction and we are reminded, once again, that addiction doesn’t discriminate.

When I was Head of School, I played this song for our students as a way of saying, “We believe in you. We believe that you are the future and, if we teach you well, you will lead the way. Your future is bright and we pass to you our strength, love and faith in you. Stay strong and know that we believe in you.” 

The Greatest Love of All

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gvPYXHM94DQ&w=420&h=315]

Greatest Love Of All

(the first stanza)

I believe the children are our future

Teach them well and let them lead the way

Show them all the beauty they possess inside

Give them a sense of pride to make it easier

Let the children’s laughter remind us how we used to be

ENABLING: PART II

Last week’s meditation evoked responses about the word ‘enabling.’ This dad’s comment below represents the general feeling among many parents about the lack of clarity between enabling and loving.

A dad wrote to me: We enable because we love our children and then we turn around and blame ourselves for helping them. It’s not fair to us, so I have chosen to do one of the four. When the choices are enable, blame, shame or love, I will choose love and “Stay Close.”

My personal reaction: We parents love our children and want to make things better for them. For me, I wasn’t sure what to do to help Jeff and almost ‘loved’ him to death. In the end, I chose to follow the advice of an Italian recovering alcoholic, “Do not abandon your son, but don’t give him money. Stagli vicino: stay close to him.”

Today’s Promise to consider: Our grown children make their own choices: some good, some not good. We can’t live their lives or choose for them, but we will love them and stay close.

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.

 

 

 

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