Sunday started with a beautiful walk with my Rasta pup on the bluff along the sound. I’m back at the beach and the fresh air, glorious sunshine and the ocean have cast their delicious spell and I feel lighter because of all of it.
I have a new pedometer, a Fitbit, and my goal is to walk at least 10,000 steps a day in addition to my other workouts. Keeps me motivated and going for several walks a day. My dog thanks me and the exercise is essential for my recovery.
Friday was a day of mixed emotions. Our daughter called to let us know that she got a job offer for a position she has interviewed for since January. We are so proud and happy for her. Her life is moving in the right direction, something I could not have imagined just a little over 3 years ago as I drove her to rehab for her heroin addiction.
Heroin addiction, it’s hard for me to talk about let alone write about. It was the day before my fifth anniversary of sobriety when she called me with the news, “Mommy, I have to tell you something really disturbing and I need help. I am addicted to heroin and need to go to rehab. Please don’t tell Dad”. How could my smart and beautiful daughter, the one who screamed at the doctor’s office when she got a shot, have fallen prey to this drug? I could not comprehend her even going near this hard street drug, a drug that has wrecked so many lives. I imagined a future of crime, prostitution, overdose and the unimaginable, death. Her recovery gives me hope.
The same day we got repeated frantic calls and text messages from our son. He was desperate because the friend he’s been staying with went out-of-town and he doesn’t let him stay in the house when he is gone, so M, once again, is out on the street and looking for a place to stay. It breaks my heart and takes me right back to the same old question, are we doing the right thing?
We’ve been in this spot more times than I can count. I try to imagine a good future for our son. Maybe he will turn around like our daughter did. But they are too different people, she is responsible, motivated and self-confident, whereas M has no confidence. This fact, coupled with his brain disorder, makes for a tough road. I continue to pray for him daily, and realize that is all I can do. Powerlessness is a hard lesson to learn.
This morning I logged into our wireless phone account and looked at M’s call details. There were scores of one minute calls made in a desperate attempt to find a place to stay. I wonder where he ended up and if he is safe. Does he have food? I don’t know how he can cope without the basic necessities of life. Are we really doing the right thing? Only my higher power can answer that question. I keep praying and hope you’ll offer up a prayer as well.