A friend, whose husband is an alcoholic, wrote to me: Your final straw with Jeff is poignant. I remember your fight with breast cancer and what a struggle that was. To tell Jeff that it was his turn to fight, well that’s what I expect my husband to do. He’s better than someone who just lets life mow him over. Perhaps I’ve been the one fighting his battles. Every time he gets himself into a bad situation he has left it up to me to fix. Since I’m fairly resourceful, I’ve been fixing many of the problems he has created. But he needs to pick up his weaponry and fight, for himself not me.
My reflection: My friend had courage to write to me about her husband. It takes courage to share the stories of the underbelly of our relationships, the stuff we don’t put on Facebook. I responded to her, What worked for Jeff? When I got out of the way. When I surrendered and told him, ‘If you don’t get help, you’re going to die. When I had breast cancer, I could have died. I had to fight. Fight, son, fight.
Today’s Promise to consider: For many years I fought my son’s battles with addiction. When he got into trouble, I rushed in to fix things. That’s what moms do, right? The problem was that I denied my son the opportunity to learn from the consequences of his addiction. The more I stepped in, the bigger the buffer became between his behavior and its repercussions. We each have to fight our battles. In the end, my son fought his. And he continues to fight every day.