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…


 


Breaking Patterns of Behavior

A young woman who is recovering from an eating disorder wrote to me: This is the first difficult time in my life that I have not been ‘drawn’ back into some form of self-defeating eating pattern! So in that sense it is the BEST difficult time because it is the first time I haven’t felt ‘PANGS’ of guilt or self dislike (or in more extreme cases self loathing). Of course, I’m aware that the pattern will raise its head again, but I am working to stay self aware and to keep letting it flow so that I don’t get pulled back.

My reflection on the passage: Patterns of behavior are hard to break, not just with an addiction but in life. When problems get too complicated for me, I tend to become more demanding, more like my father who was a Marine Corps Drill Sergeant. Being aware is the first step. When I slip, I need to make amends to others and to myself.

Today’s Promise: I will continue to develop an observing eye – that part of me that carefully watches how I respond to situations. I can break my old patterns of behavior with self awareness, honest conversations with others about my feelings, hard work and prayer.

 

DIALOGUE

A mother wrote to me: I talked with my son about what Jeff said – how the addict misses the chaos of his years of using. My son opened up to me about how much he agrees with this. He said that the drugs made him feel alive and now he feels like he’s just going through the motions. I appreciated his honesty and told him that I recognize and admire his courage to change, to talk about these things….and, of course, that I love him!

My reflection on the passage above: Jeff recently told me, “Anything that shuts down dialogue is dangerous. The silence keeps us isolated.”

Addiction thrives in the dark and needs to be brought out of the shadows and into a place of healing. When I was young, we didn’t talk about abortion, breast cancer or homosexuality. Today we talk openly about these issues and this brings hope.

Today’s Promise to consider: Open and honest dialogue takes courage. I will face the tough issues and fight for relationships with my loved ones and those for whom I care deeply. I will work with them to find a place of understanding and forgiveness.

 

QUIET LOVE

A mother wrote me an email message. This is part of it: I still grieve my lost son. I’m grateful that he is sober, but I don’t know this son, not really. Although he seems gentle and kind, he keeps me somewhat at arm’s length and I suspect he doesn’t know what to do with “Mom” who he is getting to know again. Some days the loss of “family” as I have defined it in my own head is overwhelming…other days, I can feel optimistic about our new beginning as a family. I need to be patient with myself.

My personal reflection on the passage offering my thoughts today: Jeff talked with a group of young recovering addicts ages fourteen to eighteen. One boy said, “I can’t even listen to the same music I used to. It brings back memories and I sometimes feel the urge to use when I hear it.” Jeff replied, “Yeah, I get it. When I got sober, I didn’t even know what color I liked. I had to learn what I was about without drugs. I had to get to know me.”

When he said this, I realized that we all have to get to know each other again. After fourteen years of drug addiction, Jeff changed, Jeremy changed and so did I. Dr. MacAfee told me, “Just stay quiet with Jeff. He’ll feel your quiet support and he’ll take the time he needs to do what he needs to do to be true to himself.”

Today’s Promise to consider: I’ll be patient with my loved one and with myself. We are growing and changing. I’ll stand quietly with him, next to him and love him through to truth.

LIVING FORWARD

Pappa Jeremy and Iysabella Carmela

A friend wrote a poem about hope and this is part of it: Looking far behind, Will never help you find what’s true…Because you can’t relive it, Or somehow try to give it, Another shot. Although you’d like to rearrange it, The truth is you can’t change it; It’s done. Good-bye. Not what you’d hoped, Or wanted…So start revising hopes and dreams, To fit what is, not what it seems…You can leave the past behind you now, And say instead a quiet vow, To make your future wish come true, By being strong, By being you.

My personal reflection on the message of the poem offering my thoughts today: When our children or loved ones suffer, we suffer. I was filled with guilt and beat myself up with questions like, “What could I have done differently? How could I have saved my son and my family from this tragedy of addiction?”

The lines above seem true to me. I can’t change our past: It’s done – Good-bye. I admit that it isn’t what I had hoped for or prayed for. But as Jeff 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 this path around or change the footsteps that follow me. Drugs were my life, but drugs left me empty.”

For my family and me, we must continue to look to the future and be strong. I must be strong for my sons. It’s the best gift I can give them. It’s is the best gift I can give myself.

Today’s Promise for us to consider: Today I won’t look back in the rearview mirror. I’ll give myself the permission to leave the past behind and to look forward with hope.

STAY CLOSE

A mother wrote an email message to me. This is part of it: Things are better at the moment, but we have ups and downs. I am working on the “loving with detachment” issue. I spend hours each day analyzing where I went wrong as a parent or what I should have done differently. I’ve been to Al-Anon, Nar-Anon and private counseling, but the pain is always there. The best advice I ever received was from my counselor who told me, “Keep on telling her you love her and mean it because you’ll never regret those words.”

My personal reflection on the passage offering my thoughts today: There is a Tibetan expression, “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.”

The Director at San Patrignano said it a different way, stagli vicino – “stay close to him.” Loving with detachment was a hard concept for me to understand, but I understood clearly stagli vicino – “don’t abandon him, but don’t give him money.” This made sense to me and, in the end, this is what helped our family and my son.

Today’s Promise to consider: Today I will stay close to my child. Even if he is unlovable and certainly when he is at his worst, I will stay close.

Decision Making: Theirs and Ours

A mother wrote an email message to me. This is part of it: We have tried to stay close to our addicted son, but I think instead I have been enabling him. We hired a lawyer the first time, but my son did something worse and ended up in jail anyway. The last time, we got an attorney again, but with similar results. I know my son needs long-term rehab, but how does he leave everything and go away for a year or more? I don’t know what to do to save our son.

My personal reflection on the passage above offering my thoughts today: As parents, we want to save our children. But addiction is a confounding disease and we find that we are oftentimes powerless. Dr. MacAfee writes, “Family members repeatedly blame themselves and try to straighten out the addict. This is a mission filled with good intention, but unless the addict is ready to stop, good intentions are exploited. Addicts will do anything in their power to keep using, and family will do anything in their power to stop them.”

Our addicted children have to make the choice to get and stay clean. We can love them through it, but in our attempt to save them we often enable. This vicious cycle must be broken.

Today’s Promise to consider for all of us who love addicts: I will stay close and allow my loved one to choose a life of sobriety. I must stop denying him the consequences of his addiction. He must make the decision for himself and I must respect my boundaries.

A FAMILY DISEASE

A brother wrote an email message to me. This is part of it: I worked at a restaurant with my older brother and, after a few weeks, I started seeing clearly his actions, who he was hanging out with and what he was doing. I realized that he was an addict. I watched his life spiral out of control and I warned him that I would tell our parents what was happening. After months of threatening him and praying that he’d stop, I told my parents. Through my own tears, I told them that I was losing my brother to drugs. They sat in disbelief…it was too hard for them to grasp. At that moment, I hated my brother: I hated him and I loved him. It was all so confusing.

My personal reflection on the passage above offering my thoughts today: The Big Book of AA calls addiction a “confounding illness.” The boundaries of hate and love collide, family loyalties are threatened, brothers fight against brothers, and parents don’t know what to do. We parents try to save our families, but how do we protect everyone, including ourselves? Somehow we have to find a place where we are able to stay close to our addicted child while keeping ourselves and our other children out of the chaos.

Today’s Promise to consider for all of us who love addicts: I will talk with my non-addicted children about what is happening in our family. I will listen to them and try to understand their confusion and fears. I might even share mine. I will offer them help in An-Anon, Alateen or another counseling program.

COMPASSION

An addict writes: I’ve been battling this affliction for the better part of my life. I’m trying again and the task in front of me is daunting, terrifying and hideously familiar. However, I am reminded today that I can get clean, that there is something bigger than myself. If that isn’t a higher power at work, I don’t know what is.

Reflection: As a mom, I never really understood that I could never understand the pain of the addict, of my son. I was so immersed in my own pain and the trauma of our family that I couldn’t see the other side, what my son must have been feeling. The words above daunting, terrifying and hideously familiar begin to paint the picture of an addict’s life as he faces detox, sobriety and recovery. Compassion – we must stay compassionate. The journey into sobriety is theirs; we can only stay close and love them.

Today’s Promise: I will learn greater compassion for my son the addict. That does not mean that I will enable him or give him money that he could use for drugs. What it does mean is that I’ll love him through his addiction. Home won’t go away. I will not abandon him. I will try to understand his shame, his trauma.