Update about his hearing.

I realized today that I hadn’t updated about how my son’s hearing had gone.  It was uneventful.  He didn’t even appear before the judge.  The two attorneys went into a back room and talked briefly, and when they came back in his attorney asked to set a preliminary hearing date for the end of May. My son’s attorney is a public defender and it seemed to me that he hadn’t spent much time even looking at my son’s case before court.  I’m sure they’re overworked and underpaid.  So, anyway, that’s it in a nutshell.  His preliminary hearing is set for the end of May.  He will enter a plea then, and the prosecutor will recommend a sentence.  I’m not sure how to feel about it all.  My stomach seems to tie itself up in knots the before a hearing no matter how much I try to calm my anxieties.

 I have to look at the extra time between hearings as a good thing because it gives him more time to try to find a job.  I’m sure it will look better for him if he has a job and is being productive.  He’s finding though, that jobs are not easy to come by when you have court hearings pending and an arrest record.  These are the consequences of his addiction, and they are harsh.  I ache for him, but at the same time realize I am powerless over the outcome.  I’ve written letters of support to the prosecutor, and so have several others, but that is about all I can do. 

I continue to enjoy spending time with my son now that he’s sober.  I don’t know what the future holds, and I’m not meant to know.  I’ll just keep on taking one day at a time, with faith.  

Don't suffer in silence

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline '1-800-273-TALK (8255)'.

 On Friday, April 13^th, 2001, two days before his 70^th birthday, my dad took his own life.  He drove to the cemetery where my sister is buried, put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger.  Why, and what could I have done to help? Those are the questions that haunt me every April as the anniversary of my dad’s suicide approaches.  That’s the torment that suicide leaves behind.

I had just returned to work after buying Dad’s birthday gift on my lunch break when the sheriff came and told me that my mom needed me.  When I got to her place I was told what happened.  Nobody saw it coming, but as I struggled with trying to figure out why, I saw little signs that he had probably planned it several months in advance.  He had made sure that he and mom were set up in a nice retirement community where he knew she would be surrounded by other widows who would take care of her.  He was never very demonstrative with his love, but on my birthday in February he had brought a single rose to me while I was at work and had given me a hug.  My dad rarely gave hugs.  In March he had come by my place and cleaned my lawn mower and sharpened the blades.  I believe those little acts of kindness were his way of saying good-bye. 

He left a 6 page letter for my mom, trying to explain why he had decided to commit suicide.  He had suffered a minor stroke a few months earlier, and even though he had fully recovered, he couldn’t stand the thought that he would have another and possibly be left unable to care for himself.  I know that, indeed, the stroke was part of it.  However, Dad was an alcoholic.  I believe the main reason for his suicide was untreated depression that he self-medicated with alcohol.  Dad was a very proud man, and would never ask for help for what he saw as a weakness.  I believe he had been depressed most of his life, and when my sister succumbed to cancer at the age of 28, his drinking increased.  There seemed to be no way to rescue him.  I wish that I had been more educated as to the signs of suicide and had known about the Lifeline number. The heartbreak left in the wake of Dad’s suicide remains unhealed.  I cannot visit my sister’s grave without the memory of his last awful moments on Earth. 

I don’t write this to scare anyone, or bring anyone down.  Rather, I hope that maybe somebody contemplating suicide will read it, and get the help they need.  Addiction and depression do not have to be terminal.  Please don’t suffer in silence.  There is hope for those who somehow find the strength to ask for it.

I’ve posted the poem I wrote for my dad’s funeral, but I’m re-posting as a tribute to his life.  I love you Dad.

Last Farewell

How hard it is to bid farewell

To you, my dearest Dad.

All my life you’ve been right there

If I just reached out my hand.

A strong pair of arms to help me,

When mine were just too weak.

An open door to welcome me,

When shelter I did seek.

How I wish I could have helped you

The way that you helped me,

And given you the comfort

That your troubled heart did need.

But sometimes the world is just too much

For a tender heart to bear.

You could find no respite

In your hour of dark despair.

So rest now my dear Father,

Enjoy your well-earned peace.

And know that you live on

In the memories I keep.

I will see you in each sunrise

That God paints across the sky.

I will feel you in each cooling breeze

That gently dances by.

I will hear you in the springtime songs

Birds sing to greet the day.

And I will not forget you, Dad

Or all your caring ways.

Stay safe within our Savior’s arms,

Until we meet again.

April 2001

He lost his job

“I pray that I may learn it is not my function to direct or control another person, however close to me.  I will also cease to be a crutch.  I can live nobody’s life but my own.”   One Day At A Time in Alanon

A couple of weeks ago I had one of “those” days.  We all have them.  A day when  we get knocked down, and then somebody comes along to kick us in the gut before we get up.  A day when I had to gather all of my strength and hand things over to the Lord.  It began with my husband telling me in the morning that he had lost his full-time job due to a company sell-out, and would be working only part-time, cutting our income in half.  It ended with my son calling to tell me he had lost his job because he had gone over his “points” in his employer’s point system for absences and tardies.  He was distraught and in tears, and my heart ached for him.  He had missed a few days that I know of because of court dates and doctor’s appointments, and he says that’s what put him over.  He has a court date next week and I’m very concerned that, if he doesn’t have another job by then it will not go well for him.  He knows this as well as I do, so I’ve decided to bite my tongue and not remind him of that when we talk.  However, he hasn’t returned my phone calls for the past week, so I’m not sure when we will talk again.  Of course, the fact that he lost his job, and isn’t returning my phone calls are red flags for me, and I’m fighting off the familiar anxiety that goes along with these changes.  I read the quote I opened with in my book of daily Alanon readings, and I’m seeing the great wisdom in those words.  I am completely powerless over my son’s actions, I’m in the process of accepting that, although there is still a tiny part of me that doesn’t want to let go. It's just so stinking hard to completely let go. I've lived my entire life being a "fixer," and I can't fix this.  I am working very hard on remaining calm and trusting in the knowledge that the Lord loves my son and is trying to help him, and that He loves me too, and will provide no matter what the future holds.  He always has.

I found this prayer at just the right time, and I wanted to share:

“Dear Lord, even though this situation feels out of control, You remain in control. I can't help how others act, but I can choose to remain calm. Because You are God. You are MY God. And You are powerful, peaceful, and good, all the time. In Jesus' Name, amen.”  Prayer from Proverbs 31 Ministries

Free download of The Healing Game, written by a fellow POA

The Healing Game will be offered as a FREE download at Amazon’s Kindle Store today Tues February 26, 2013 http://amzn.com/B00AUIDY78

If you don't have a Kindle, you can download a free app for you PC or Mac that will allow you to download Bill's book.

I haven't had a chance to read the entire book yet, but I follow Bill's blog and he is an exceptional writer who has much wisdom to share.  

Not the best news we've ever had, but we're holding on to hope.

My son got some potentially bad news from his attorney recently.  In my last post I wrote about how well his status hearing went, and that the character reference letters that several people had written on his behalf were to be presented to the prosecuting attorney.  After the prosecutor reviewed the letters he sent an email to my son’s attorney stating that no leniency would be granted.  The prosecutor is known as a “by the book” type of guy so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.  But both my son and I had our hopes up after his hearing, so this came as quite a blow.  My son admitted to me that after he read the letter he just wanted to say, “screw it all” and go score something to take away his pain.  He was able to resist the temptation, but it was a reminder of how near to the surface the siren’s call of the addiction lies.  It waits, like a vulture circling its prey, to pounce on a reason to become active again.  My son was able to work through it and decided to stay on the path he is on, keep doing the right thing, and hope that the judge will show mercy.  I am so proud of his determination to fight this demon.

I understand that there are legal consequences for breaking the law, as there should be.  However, if an addict is fighting hard to break the chains of addiction and lead a sober life as a productive citizen, what is the purpose of prison?  Will prison help in the recovery process?  I think not.  Now, I truly do believe that my son’s arrest was an intervention by the Lord to save his life and I don’t regret that he was arrested.  Even my son feels that his arrest saved his life.  But if the purpose of prison is to rehabilitate folks so they won’t commit further crimes, it would seem to me that it would be defeating the purpose at this point.  It is clear from the character references written by my son’s employer, counselor, and people who know him, that he is trying his best to turn his life around.

I will not let this latest piece of news destroy me.  I will continue to have faith and trust the Lord.  I have learned, and continue to learn that I can CHOOSE to go on with my life and find comfort in knowing that the Lord loves my son and is doing all He can to help him.  I can choose serenity in acceptance of the things I am powerless over.  One of those things is the justice system.  My husband and I intend to set up a meeting with the prosecutor in hopes that he will hear us out as we tell him about the miraculous changes taking place in my son’s life, and that he will have compassion.  If he doesn’t, I’ve done all I can do, and the rest is in God’s hands.  I trust those hands, and His love for us.

Addiction stinks

I listened to my son give his testimony to a group of recovering addicts/alcoholics.    He was in town for a hearing and attended a recovery group led by a mentor that he met in jail.  I am glad I was able to hear it, but it was very painful to listen to.  I was filled with immense pride, and immense sadness all at the same time.  Pride about the fact that he is trying so hard to turn his life around, and sadness about the toll it has taken on his life.  Sadness over the years his addiction has stolen.  He spoke of how he started using when he was 16 (I had no idea the depth of his addiction), and that it seemed to be the answer to all of his teenage problems.  It seemed to magically cure his shyness, and give him confidence to socialize and meet girls.  I guess if I would have found a magic powder to cure my 16 year old insecurities I probably would have fallen victim too.  He said he became hooked the first time he used it, and that he had been using until his arrest in May.  He went from smoking to injecting, and when he lost job after job, and could no longer buy it, he started making his own.  He didn’t sell it, he made it only for his own use.  His addiction grew and worsened until he was convinced that he would die with a needle in his arm, and he didn’t care.  Death would be a release.  He no longer used the drug to get high, he used the drug to feel normal.  He couldn’t feel normal without the drug in his system.  I was struck, once again, by what an insidious and evil affliction addiction is.  So often, it claims its victims when they are young and still believe they are invincible, and won’t become addicted.  I’m sure all the forces of evil must take great delight in the lives it has been able to destroy through addiction.

My son confided in me that he has to fight temptation almost every day.  Temptation to use again and go back to the living hell that nearly destroyed him.  I’m glad that he was open with me about it, because honesty and openness is something I haven’t had from him for a very long time. Addiction is all about secrecy and lies, and he at least is being honest with me now.  But it scared the hell out of me to hear him say that he was having to fight so hard against what would surely be a path to his destruction.  He is fighting back.  Going to 12 step groups almost every evening, and talking to his sponsor. He’s going to church and praying for help to fight his demons.  Oh, how I hate addiction.  I hate that he will have to fight this every day for the rest of his life.  I hate that addiction takes so many promising young lives and destroys them.  I mostly hate the fact that I am powerless over its control over my son’s life.

I will not let the fear overtake me.  I will continue to hang onto my faith and believe.  I’ve seen enough miracles in my son’s life to know that God is helping him fight this battle.  He is not alone, and neither am I.

By the way, his hearing went well.  His attorney presented 9 character reference letters written by my son’s employers, counselors, family members and acquaintances.  He will have another status hearing in March.  Until then I will keep the faith, I will pray, and I will trust the Lord.