An email response from my son

It has been three days since I've heard my son's voice. I knew that I was taking a high risk, when I sent him an email. In general, it's easier for women to express their feelings than it is for men. I did not expect for my son to write back...or, if he did, that it would be a long response.

His silence always makes me worry. Yesterday, I turned on the local channel that broadcasts the pastor at my church. It was a message that we had heard many months ago, but I was hearing it as though it was fresh. Pastor was talking about how we react when people don't meet our expectations. That made me stop and think--

What are my expectations of my son? His addiction turned my hopes for him upside down. I had hoped that my son would go to college. I expected him to live with me, while he did that. He has such a passion for golf, that I encouraged him to pursue that. I never expected that my son's life would be one in that I wake up each morning, praying that he is safe and that he's not using drugs.

I also find myself wondering if I have met my son's expectations? Does he focus on my flaws? Have I done things to him that he cannot forgive? Does he truly understand that no matter what disappointment I feel about his choices, that I still love him very much?

I have asked myself what it is that would realistically give me peace about my son's addiction. I would have to say that my prayer is that he would find peace with himself and a daily relationship with God. Sometimes, I wonder what it's like to be inside of his head. My guess is that there's a lot of "chaos". I recall the burden of having debt and not enough income to make ends meet. I struggled with that for many years, and it was hard to find a sense of peace. For my son, he also has to deal with his addiction-- the constant tempation to "use". Addiction costs money, and he's spent a lot of it on that.

I pray that my son could find peace with himself. He has so many wonderful qualities! He's intelligent. He's personable. He has a very loving heart.

Today, I should have been waking up in San Francisco and spending the entire day with my son. I'm not there. Instead, I am at home and I am thinking of my son. I prayed about it, and I decided to give my son time away from me because I need to let him figure out some things on his own.

This morning, I got an email from my son. Actually, they are the lyrics to a song from Tupac. My son feels a connection to Rap Music. I don't like it, because of the language and the culture behind it. When I see the music videos from famous rappers, I see the materialism and immorality that is being glorified to our youths. It breaks my heart and my son knows it. I know the story of Tupac and I also know that he was shot and killed because of his lifestyle. So, I read the lyrics very carefully. I understand what my son is trying to tell me-- he is trying to tell me that he does appreciate me. That gives me comfort. I just don't want my son's life to end up in the street culture. I don't want my son's life to end like Tupac's. Tupac's life and death has become a legacy of loyal followers. He is seen as a brilliant poet and lyric writer. I can't see the glory in that. I can certainly see the pain in it.

My son has not done anything to me that would change my love for him. I believe that he can come back to living an abundant life-- one that God promises to all his children who love Him and who seek to live the way that Jesus came to teach us. My son doesn't have to pay me back-- my payback would be to see him have a successful recovery and to live an abundant life for God's glory.

So, here are the lyrics:

"Dear Mama"

You are appreciated

[Verse One: 2Pac]

When I was young me and my mama had beef
Seventeen years old kicked out on the streets
Though back at the time, I never thought I'd see her face
Ain't a woman alive that could take my mama's place
Suspended from school; and scared to go home, I was a fool
with the big boys, breakin all the rules
I shed tears with my baby sister
Over the years we was poorer than the other little kids
And even though we had different daddy's, the same drama
When things went wrong we'd blame mama
I reminice on the stress I caused, it was hell
Huggin on my mama from a jail cell
And who'd think in elementary?
Heeey! I see the penitentiary, one day
And runnin from the police, that's right
Mama catch me, put a whoopin to my backside
And even as a crack fiend, mama
You always was a black queen, mama
I finally understand
for a woman it ain't easy tryin to raise a man
You always was committed
A poor single mother on welfare, tell me how ya did it
There's no way I can pay you back
But the plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated

[Chorus: Reggie Green & "Sweet Franklin" w/ 2Pac]

Lady...
Don't cha know we love ya? Sweet lady
Dear mama
Place no one above ya, sweet lady
You are appreciated
Don't cha know we love ya?

[second and third chorus, "And dear mama" instead of "Dear mama"]

[Verse Two: 2Pac]

Now ain't nobody tell us it was fair
No love from my daddy cause the coward wasn't there
He passed away and I didn't cry, cause my anger
wouldn't let me feel for a stranger
They say I'm wrong and I'm heartless, but all along
I was lookin for a father he was gone
I hung around with the Thugs, and even though they sold drugs
They showed a young brother love
I moved out and started really hangin
I needed money of my own so I started slangin
I ain't guilty cause, even though I sell rocks
It feels good puttin money in your mailbox
I love payin rent when the rent's due
I hope ya got the diamond necklace that I sent to you
Cause when I was low you was there for me
And never left me alone because you cared for me
And I could see you comin home after work late
You're in the kitchen tryin to fix us a hot plate
Ya just workin with the scraps you was given
And mama made miracles every Thanksgivin
But now the road got rough, you're alone
You're tryin to raise two bad kids on your own
And there's no way I can pay you back
But my plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: 2Pac]

Pour out some liquor and I reminsce, cause through the drama
I can always depend on my mama
And when it seems that I'm hopeless
You say the words that can get me back in focus
When I was sick as a little kid
To keep me happy there's no limit to the things you did
And all my childhood memories
Are full of all the sweet things you did for me
And even though I act craaazy
I gotta thank the Lord that you made me
There are no words that can express how I feel
You never kept a secret, always stayed real
And I appreciate, how you raised me
And all the extra love that you gave me
I wish I could take the pain away
If you can make it through the night there's a brighter day
Everything will be alright if ya hold on
It's a struggle everyday, gotta roll on
And there's no way I can pay you back
But my plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated

[Chorus]

Sweet lady
And dear mama

Dear mama
Lady [3X]

An real email that I sent to my son today

I am desperate to have my son back. I am grieving for the son that I lost to addiction. I have heard your point of view, and I have listened to a lot of blame being put on me. I feel frustrated and helpless. At times, I feel as though I’ve lost my son. I am trying, hard, to learn how to help you but I also have to set boundaries.

Please try to understand the pain and heartbreak that I am feeling about the person you have become. What I’m about to write could, potentially, make you mad. You might totally disagree with me. I am asking that you “listen” to me, as I spell out what I see:

I wish that I could record the way that you talk to me. The actually WAY that you talk is loud and fast. I feel as though I am constantly interrupted. Inside my head, I am screaming “listen!!!” Sometimes, I feel worn out and defeated trying to have a conversation with you. I feel dominated and overruled, and then I just don’t want to talk anymore. To me, I feel like the faster you talk the less I believe what you are saying. Can you understand that?

I am frustrated with how unreliable you are about showing up on time, or returning calls. An example is our trip to San Francisco. Yes, I heard why you were two hours late— and, I predicted that would happen. When we got to San Francisco, you left me in the middle of my lunch. You said you’d return in 10 minutes. 20 minutes later, I had to go find you. I was left, locked out, of your apartment. You didn’t answer your cell phone. Finally, someone let me into the apartment. Yes, you apologized…but why did you do that, in the first place?

So many times, you say that you’ll call me right back. The call might come back a few hours later, or not at all. Can you understand that?

I have also observed that you have a hard time prioritizing taking care of important things, and I don’t know why. As an example—bank overdrafts. It makes me sad at how many HUNDREDS of dollars you have lost to bank overdrafts. How many times have your father and I made bank deposits to bail you out of this? You promised me that you would not use your bank card as a debit card. You agreed that ATM withdrawals are the only thing you would do—still, I got a frantic call from you to bail you out again.

Last night, I did not mean to make your friend cry—the more I think about it, why did you put me on speaker phone? Besides, I wasn’t blaming your friend. YOU are the person who gave her your debit card!

Last night, I had a moment of feeling so hopeless. I laid in bed, wondering how you could go through $100.00 in groceries, a $50.00 grocery gift card, a $20.00 BART ticket and $30.00 in cash and an additional $60.00—in five days!

My heart is filled with disappointment that I cannot see you getting a handle on how to manage money. That’s when I am reminded that “addiction” is a terrible demon. Last night, I thought back to when I was with “Steve”. I didn’t know the depth of his alcohol and drug addiction for a long time. In retrospect, I can see why we fought so much. We fought because his lies, manipulation and irresponsible behavior did not rest with me. I grew tired of my working so hard, while he couldn’t keep a job. We were always broke, and he was always in need of money to get out some debt he had gotten himself into. I am not the type of woman who can accept that kind of behavior! I wasn’t raised to be that kind of woman.

So, that’s why you and I have problems getting along. I am so deeply hurt and heart-broken over this. We don’t see eye-to-eye because we have different values. I am trying to live my life in “The Spirit” and I want to please God. I see you living your life in “The Flesh”. I used to live my life that way, and it only brought troubles into my life. That’s why I had problems in my relationships with men and getting along with people. It was too hard for me to keep up with my lies.

I am horrified at the stories you tell me—about people who want to kill you. I am torn between believing it, or fearing it. You tell me these things, so casually. Do you have any idea that terror that puts into me? I could not bear the thought of you dying at a young age. No mother expects to outlive their child. It tears me apart.

Most importantly, I pray that you truly mean what you said to me, last week. You said that you wanted to finally be honest—to yourself and to everyone else. I praise that! It is so true, what the bible says—the truth will set you free! Addiction breeds a life of lies and manipulation and evil. You know that, and you’ve admitted it to me. I do believe that sin separates us from God. When we finally learn to be honest with ourselves… we are being honest with God. I believe that God will bless us for that. I have personally experienced God's Grace and Mercy. I have learned to like the new “me”, now that I am trying to live my life with honor and integrity.

Right now, I feel that my trust account with you is in overdraft. Somehow, I still feel as though I serve a purpose to you, as a mom, when you need something. My joy, as your mom, is to help you by sharing my wisdom in Life Skills. But, I feel as though it’s my checkbook that you rely on as my motherly help. I’ve done the best that I can, but I’m so nervous about believing your promises.

I pray for you, every single day, without fail. But, right now, I am feeling beaten down and tired with your daily drama. I am already skeptical about you coming here for even a day. It would be smart for you to re-pack your boxes of things and to wash your clothes that is in my garage. I had fantasies of lovingly pressing them, and hanging them up for you. I visualize taking you back to the City, and spending a nice day with you.

But, you pattern has been to shatter my hopes to do nice things for you. I have a fear that you’ll come down, and find all kinds of distractions and reason why you won’t take care of these responsibilities. I have a fear that your cell phone will keep ringing and you’ll need to run off to take care of something with “a friend”. Those kinds of calls put terror into my heart—I can’t help but wonder why you have to run off.

I swore that I wouldn’t write you a long letter—but I can’t help it. There is so much pain, disappointment, hurt and fear inside me. I have bottled it up so well, that people marvel at how strong I am being. The truth is, I feel as though there is a dam inside me. I am the mother of an addict and I want my son back! I want that beautiful baby boy that I raised to morph into a young adult son who can focus on the most important priorities in his life—his recovery, a job, honesty and finding a way to manage his money.

One last thing—you said to me that your treatment center tells you to be “self” in your recovery…that you need to put “the program” as what’s most important—before your family and friends. I would like to offer you a different perspective:

Your recovery should be the most important priority in your life. But, don’t forget that your friends and family love you, and have suffered through your addiction, too. We have been deeply wounded by all of this. Please don’t shove us way back in a closet, only to be pulled out when you need something from us.

I believe in you, son. I only wish that you believed in me and my love for you.

Why I created this blogsite

Every so often, I receive phone calls from family members or friends. They don't know what to say to me, when they read about my son's struggles to have a successful recovery from his opiate addiction. If you are one of them-- please know, that an email or a phone call is always welcome and appreciated. I know that what I am experiencing with my son is hard for many people to truly comprehend. I never thought that this would happen to me, either! It is my deepest hope that this blogsite might touch the hearts of parents who are going through something similar to mine-- or, better yet, that someone who is an addict might better understand how their "disease" affects those who love them.

The other reason that I started this blogsite is for ME. Journaling is great therapy, you know. I type much faster than I can handwrite, so that is how I found this blogsite. Ultimately, when my son has long-term sobriety to claim-- and more maturity-- I hope to share this blog with him. Maybe, he can read it and get a feel for me.

It is hard when someone, who doesn't know the truth about my son, asked me "how's your son"? What do you say? I don't want to tell ANYONE that he's addicted to opiates! So, I just give the standard answer, "he's great and lives in the Bay Area"... of course, I dread the follow-up question "what's he doing there"?

"Trying to find himself", is all I can think of as my answer.

For those of you who know my son, this blogsite is my way of updating you on what's going on. It's hard for me to talk about it-- not that I dont' want anyone to NOT ask about my son. I just don't like to relive all the sordid details. I know that my loved ones mean well, but I don't want for them to blame his father for my son's addiction. I don't want to blame anyone. Though B's dad and I have very different parenting and spiritual values-- he loves his son. I have to be really careful that I don't feed into the "blame frenzy". My loved ones want to do that. because they are being protective of me. I have found peace in knowing that God knows the truth.

Today's update is simply that my son called me. Of course, it's always at my busiest time, at work. He was doing laundry and I sense some sadness to him. He doesn't sound happy. That's my motherly instinct.

I will share a small snippet of my 2 hour drive to San Francisco on Sunday:

The "gyst" of B's 2-hour conversation was his admitting why he relapsed. I won't get into that detail, because that's highly person for him to share with me. I can say that it all made sense. But, shortly thereafter, he began to blame ME for his relapse!

My husband, who sat quietly in the backseat with a book, heard most of that conversation. Later, he reassured me that was B's "addiction" speaking. He previously had a long-term relationship with a woman, who was an alcoholc. Like me, he devoted a lot of time and effort in counseling and reading books about co-dependence. He said that she would blame him, and everyone else, for her relapse. That's DENIAL. I always appreciate his insights and support. He has a lot of wisdom, and I know that he cares about B.

I am making progress, I call tell. In the past, my gut reaction would be to defend myself with a vengeance. This time, I let my son list all the things I did wrong and what I should have done. He backed up his blame game by quoting that his treatment center "laughed" when B told them how I was unwilling to let him live with me, when he got out of detox.

Calmly, I countered to him that I did not let him come to live with me on his treatment center's advice-- we knew that returning to his home turf would be a recipe for relapse disaster. I reminded him of all the lies and manipulation he had put me through. He grew silent.

Last, I reminded him that he was not left out in the cold. He got weekly allowances. I reminded him of my trips up there to buy him groceries, dishes and he was never left without money for food. He actually accepted that, and stopped blaming me.

Then again, isn't the average teenager like this? Most teenagers are self-absorbed. It must be a teen hormonal brain wiring gene that makes them so selfish! Rarely do I hear a teenager tell me how blessed they are! Generation "X" doesn't have a clue on how blessed they really are! I was probably the same way with my own parents.

I have a feeling that B sees me as a humorless mom who doesn't understand him. It's not that I don't understand him. I don't agree with him. The reason that my son and I are so different is that I really want to live my life in the "spirit"-- the Holy Spirit. I want to live my life to please and obey God. My son, at this time, is living his live "in the flesh". So, we are battling against our spiritual values.

One day, I hope that my son will see that I am seeking to put my Old Worldly Self behind me. I want to be known as a woman of integrity, with a forgiving heart and who loves God. It's not easy to do, but it gives me peace.

There is more to share, but I need to end my lunch break and get back to work.

Till later,

Debby

Our Sunday in San Francisco

I will share more of my adventures with B, and our day in San Francisco, when I have more time to summarize what's going on with him.

For now, he's living in a nice apartment in San Francisco. It's in a good area, where I feel safe walking around. He's not too far from Union Square and close to the Nob Hill area. It's a very small apartment, but it's cute and kept clean. A woman, and her adult daughter, are graciously letting B stay with them. B knows the mother from his treatment center. She has 15 years of sobriety, but she relapsed a few months ago. B's "plan" is to go to daily meetings with her as an outpatient at his treatment center. It sounds good.

I am guardedly optimistic about this. B is saying all the right things. Now, will he "do" them?

I need to sort my thoughts on, and I will blog about them when I have some peace and quiet.

Deb

Happy Birthday, Son

Happy Birthday, "B". You are 20 years old, today.

This morning, I was stretched across my King bed. I have waited, for two weeks, for the luxury of sleeping in. My husband had just gotten out of bed. In the quiet of my room, I thanked God for giving me the gift of Motherhood.

I lay there, thinking back to the day that my son came into the world. I had spent most of Halloween night, in labor. B came into the world close to lunchtime, the following day, after my labor was finally induced.

I remember coming home with him, two days later. I didn't have a clue how to take care of a baby. All I knew, is that I got to be a stay-at-home mom, and I was immersed in learning how to care for him.

B was as perfect a baby as I could have asked for. He slept through most of the night. We did the "Mommy and Me" classes, Gymboree, and play dates with his cousin-- who was just three months older than he.

We were living in a home that I loved. We had a swimming pool, my horse barn and two horses. Life was good. I was the center of his universe, and he was the joy of my life.

I recall that the challenges with my son did not begin until he was in middle school. But, that's another story.

Today is my son's 20th birthday. It's hard to believe how fast the time goes. No matter what, I still thank God for blessing me with his child. I was reminded of scripture that I have read many times:

Deuternomy 11:8-21

8 Observe therefore all the commands I am giving you today, so that you may have the strength to go in and take over the land that you are crossing the Jordan to possess, 9 and so that you may live long in the land that the LORD swore to your forefathers to give to them and their descendants, a land flowing with milk and honey. 10 The land you are entering to take over is not like the land of Egypt, from which you have come, where you planted your seed and irrigated it by foot as in a vegetable garden. 11 But the land you are crossing the Jordan to take possession of is a land of mountains and valleys that drinks rain from heaven. 12 It is a land the LORD your God cares for; the eyes of the LORD your God are continually on it from the beginning of the year to its end.

13 So if you faithfully obey the commands I am giving you today—to love the LORD your God and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul- 14 then I will send rain on your land in its season, both autumn and spring rains, so that you may gather in your grain, new wine and oil. 15 I will provide grass in the fields for your cattle, and you will eat and be satisfied.

16 Be careful, or you will be enticed to turn away and worship other gods and bow down to them. 17 Then the LORD's anger will burn against you, and he will shut the heavens so that it will not rain and the ground will yield no produce, and you will soon perish from the good land the LORD is giving you. 18 Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. 19 Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. 20 Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates, 21 so that your days and the days of your children may be many in the land that the LORD swore to give your forefathers, as many as the days that the heavens are above the earth.

I am reminded that God entrusts us to raise his children to know the ways of the Lord. Have I done this? I can only say that I got a late start, but I've tried.

I believe that my son has a good heart. He's struggling against the powers of temptation.

He is 20 years old, today. Statistics say that at the age of 25, the brain finally develops common sense and maturity. So, does that mean that for the next five years that I need to pray for his safety? Of course, it does!

I have no regrets about being a mom. Raising my son has been my greatest accomplishment. No, he's not perfect. I can't boast that my kid is an honor's student, valedictorian, or that he's going to an esteemed University. I can't boast that he's CEO of a company, or that he's a VIP for a company.

It doesn't matter. What I know, in my heart, is that my beautiful baby boy is still there-- deep down inside. He has a demon that wants to hang on to his soul. But, I have the power of Jesus Christ who is much stronger than any forces of evil. I will never give up on my son.

So, today, I have looked through photo albums of the times when my beautiful son had his innocence-- photos of him with his cousin, with his "Oma", in his Batman Halloween costume...in his little league uniform. He was a very happy little boy, and loved by many people.

B is on his way to pick up the last of his things at his apartment in Benicia. Then, he's headed back here. Tomorrow morning, the plan is for me to take him to San Francisco. I am prepared to make it a great day at Golden Gate Park. He wants to visit the Planetarium. It will be our day, in celebration of his birthday.

Thank you, Lord, for entrusting me with your child. I have done my best to teach him about you. Thank you for your grace, your mercy and your blessings that you have given him.

"Mom"