Christmas thoughts

When people ask me what I got for Christmas, I tell them the best gift was having all of my kids home and healthy.  No material gift could be better.  Parents and loved ones of addicts know exactly what I mean. 

            As we all sat together on Christmas day, I kept catching myself staring at my son like I used to when he was a baby.  When he was first placed in my arms after he was born I remember just staring at him, taking in every detail, so thankful that he was healthy.  Here we are 29 years later, and I found myself thinking those same thoughts, but for different reasons.  I was just so happy to have him healthy (sober) and home.  When we went over to my in-law’s house he met relatives that he had never met in the nine years that my husband and I have been married.  He’d never met them because when he was an active addict he was too high to socialize.  I didn’t know that at the time, so deep was my denial.  He gave each of us cards and wrote words in them straight from his heart, which is also something that has rarely happened over the past 10 years.  There was no money left over to spend on cards when he was using.

            He didn’t hook up with any of his old drug buddies, which was a huge relief.  His girlfriend did leave with her brother on Christmas Day, which could have ruined my day if I had let it.  Her brother uses.  I was glad my son didn’t go with them.  I had to make a conscious decision not to obsess over what she and her brother may have been up to.  Whether she chooses to use or not is on my “I am powerless over……” list.  I know very well that if she starts using again, my son will be faced with temptation and he will have to make tough choices.  But, like it or not, I do not control the universe.  That is the Lord’s job and He sees the big picture, while I just see my little corner. 

            So, I pray for strength to stay in the moment and find gratitude in each day that my son is sober.

Lord, give me the gift of faith…

Teach me to live this moment only,

Looking neither to the past with regret,

Nor the future with apprehension.

Let løve be my aim and my life a prayer.

Roseann Alexander-Isham