Mom, Take Your Eyes Off!

Next to Christmas and New Years day, the hardest holiday for families in crisis is probably Mother's Day.

Magazines, TV programs and ads, newspapers, radio and Facebook tout enduring pitches of what a great mother your mother was and the reward you should be giving her.  But I'd venture to say that most mother's of addicts and alcoholics are struggling to find their place today.   This holiday almost seems to be a competition as to which mother has been honored more by her adoring children.

After all, where would we be without our mothers?  Some people, however, didn't have loving mothers and are searching for someone to affirm them and validate their existence while some mothers are struggling to find their loving children underneath all the chemicals running rampant through their veins.

Perhaps each Mother's day rolls by with your stomach inside out in anguish wondering whether or not you'll get a glimpse of your addicted one. Maybe Mother's day is the same as every other day with all the chaos, fighting and tears that you've been enduring for weeks, months or years now.  "Nothings changed!"  you shout to yourself as you pull on the covers and put the light out on another disappointing, heart-breaking day.  You go to sleep with tears falling on your pillow and cursing the situation you are in, loathing the alarm that will jolt you awake in 7 hours for yet another exhausting day. 

"How will this ever be different?" you ask to no one in particular.  Heavy sighs follow.

One of the current buzz phrases is "change agent" and people are being urged to be the change they want to see.  Being codependent, we sometimes struggle severely to see that things really can be different. We take on the thinking that this life was merely meant to be endured and nothing better would come our way.  Oh, the lies of addiction affect the whole family!

But, if you could change something today, what would it be?  Don't lose a ton of time thinking about what you know you cannot change.  Instead,  if you could change one thing today for yourself what would it be?  Have you set any goals for yourself?  This isn't easy. We aren't used to focusing on ourselves in a healthy way. I am just beginning to set new, attainable goals and I've been working a program for 6 years.  

What would next Mother's day be like for you if you can make a reasonable change for yourself?  I used to imagine my special days with my children and grands around my feet. That really isn't the way it goes in my family and now I'm okay with that. The truth is, my sons and daughter-in-law don't love me any more or any less because we aren't all gathered together but for years the lies in my head told me differently.  Facebook and other venues may make you feel less loved or cared for, but you can stop that in its tracks right now. Stay off of Facebook if it breaks your heart. 

What can you do that lets love in and allows you to feel at peace?  For me, I took today off. Off from everything.  I didn't go to church which is rare. I would love to have been there but I attend a church that is 35 minutes away and was just in that area yesterday and will be there again tomorrow night for a meeting so I decided a week ago, that I was probably going to spend Sunday morning in my chair, with a cup of coffee and my feet up and my Higher Power, my Savior, is okay with that!  I watched "I Love Lucy" reruns and read the paper.  I made home made waffles and took a nap. I received messages from people that love me which includes my own offspring and watched my beloved Detroit Tigers while catching up on some overdue reading. It has been a perfect day!  In the past I may not have heard from one or the other of my sons and for some reason I let the drugs lie to me about how they really felt about me. Suddenly the day would be lost in "should haves and would haves and if only".  Ugh. 

I'm thankful and grateful that this program allows me to let go of my expectations, to still be at peace in my heart and to know when to walk away from Facebook. Just like I learned years ago to turn off the TV during Christmas when the messages were overwhelmingly laden with couples and romance and what I thought I was missing, I'm learning to not let anyone or anything dictate what these days ought to be and where my joy comes from.

So, I ask again, what will mother's day look like tomorrow? What will it look like next year? What changes will you make in your own life choices that will bring you joy and peace for each day leading up to next mother's day?  Remember  that it's just one day at a time so you don't have to change every messy thing today. It's a process, sometimes slow and laborious but a process nonetheless. You will see that you are different than you were 30 days ago, six months ago and each passing year.   

Take your eyes off your addict.  Look out the window and see how many different kinds of birds are in your neighborhood.  It's that time of year to plant a garden or container that will bring joy to your heart.  Take your eyes off your addict.  Read a book that challenges your thinking or takes you on a brain vacation. Take your eyes off your addict. You are a good mom and you are loved.  Don't hang your head any more for the choices your addict has made. Don't bury yourself for your past parenting mistakes made in love. Get some support and friends who will see the talents and gifts you have been given.  It sounds trite but Let Go and Let God. 

Mostly take your eyes off your addict and place them on God who cares for you more than you'll ever know.  Bask in His love for you as He longs to lead you into something new and loving and exciting. 

Happy Mother's Day from one change agent to another! 

Hold On Tight to Your Dreams

This post was written in 2016, but worth resurrecting in 2021.  A timeless thought and practice for anyone looking at their life in the midst of chaos. 

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Here we are. One month under our belt in 2016.  I hope you still have a glimmer of the hopes and dreams you planted for yourself, or thought you did, as the new year approached. 

Do you remember being full of hope and new promise of untouched ideas and unexplored dreams before the chaos of addiction was crouching at your door?  Remember what it was like to look ahead and see yourself doing something you thought would change the world or at least change your life? 

Gosh, it was so long ago when I used to imagine myself either performing, teaching or nursing.  But when life didn't head in that direction, nor did I have my feet firmly planted to make any of these aspirations a goal, I began to put those dreams into boxes near my chair so I could pull them back out when I was ready.  Then the boxes were in the way and after hurting myself tripping over them, they were placed up high on a shelf that were never pulled back down and remained there unopened.  Finally, those boxes were tossed away when changes came along and those dreams seemed untouchable or foolish for one like me. 

When Cliff was in full blown addiction, I began to see myself through a narrower eyeglass and only examined his life through the telescopic lens, because you know, he was my son.  My problem, my rescue and my responsibility.  I was so exhausted trying to save Cliff, I had no time or desire to change my own life.  I thought it was selfish to think about me because, after all, who would help my poor baby??  As if he were my infant child, I would cry out at night "He's hungry, he's alone, he's cold, he's fearful."  Is he going to survive another night on the street?  But the fact was "He's 18, he's 21, he's 25" and those concerns kept overriding all sensible thinking.  

When I was created, like all of us, I was planted with a future and a hope.  Dreams, visions and ideas were indelibly planted in my marrow by my Creator.  He gave you some of your own, too.  But, when the chaos of addiction became my partner in every breath I took, the enemy of my soul kept telling me that nothing would change. The subtle, sneaky, lying deceiver kept telling me my dreams and visions I had were foolish and a thing of the past, let alone the dreams I had for my children. Those were stomped out and gone. The only dream I could see was burying Cliff from an overdose, which by the grace of God didn't happen.  Wow, the time I spent lost in the lies added up to years.  

But guess what?  When my own recovery from codependency finally took root, I learned that I was powerless over this thing and certainly powerless over my sons lives and therefore, better look closely at my own. I discovered that some of my character traits weren't very nice and were requiring change, even at 61.  But, they don't change the dreams and goals planted by my Creator and are still here.  He never took them away from me in spite of my belief that they were long gone. There was no expiration date on those specific gifts He gave me. Soon, the boxes of dreams re-appeared in my line of vision and were within my grasp.  The lids were lifting up again and soon, the plans re-awakened in my thinking. 

Some of the things God planted in me, occur without thought because I simply love the life He's given me and I'm thankful that today I can walk in confidence that I will still have opportunities to live out my dream. Writing happens to be one of them. Other dreams and character behaviors are still being shaped, even at 61.  Yay!

And in those dreams that are taking shape, I see both of my sons becoming the men that God created them to be, without their mommy's direction.  They are men. They are responsible. They are loved by the same Creator and were born with a future and a hope, too.  Your addict and your alcoholic were created in just the same way!  This is not an exclusive club. Have hope! 

Not nobody, not no how (tipping my hat to the Cowardly Lion) is going to steal my dreams and blessings again.  They may not look like the vision I had at 18, 25, or 40, but they are exactly as they should be right now. God keeps His plans and promises. We just have to believe and let Him in. 

Hold on Tight To Your Dreams

You tube and picture googled

Celebrating Mom

"One of the first things that I remember about your Mother was that she was extremely bright" Aunt Pat said. "She missed a lot of school and I suspect it was because she didn't have the bus fare yet she was never behind in her work."   

 In honor of what would have been Mom's 82nd birthday,  I asked one of her dearest high school friends  if we could meet for lunch.  Aunt Pat always impressed me whenever we would see her because she was current on happenings and in great shape due to being an avid walker.  Instead, Aunt Pat offered an invitation for me to come to her home which I did and we sat and chatted a bit about Mom. When WWII broke out, Mom was sent to boarding school and while there her father re-enlisted in the Sea-bees and her mom left the state she lived in to go after work. Shortly after mom finished high school her parents divorced and her own mother was gone for 44 years and returned only after her second husband passed away. 

As we chatted my suspicions were confirmed however, that Mom was relatively homeless through her high school years. Aunt Pat recalled just how often mom seemed to stay here, there and everywhere that she could bunk in. At times she was at her sister's for more than a few nights and also stayed at some acquaintances of my grandmother's as a mother's helper.  But more often than not, Mom was fending for herself.
  

Somehow her tuition expenses were met because she went to a parochial school but she truly didn't have much family support in her circle. Aunt Pat said she suspected some family turmoil but never knew for certain because Mom never said. She guessed it to be alcohol.  Aunt Pat said she had never met anyone like my mom during those years who seemed to always be asking one friend or another if she could come and sleep at their house for a few days. I'm sure I remember my mom saying to no one in particular that she'd never had a birthday party as a child. She also never really talked about any holidays, or holiday traditions and the few pictures we have of mom as a child were taken when she was farmed out to an aunt's farm in Port Huron, Michigan. 

 So today, to honor Mom for the woman she single-handedly became, we shared some lunch and some laughs and admired how she managed to get through her own childhood relatively unscathed and launched into a 53 year love affair with my father, which produced ten children, nine who survive.   We talked about mom's personality which depicts a child of alcoholism. Some detachment, some caustic conversations and trying to control everyone's life at times (since her's was out of control that's often what happens). 

How do you learn to become a parent of nine children and manage them without husbandly support?  Oh, my dad was around of course, but he worked many jobs to pay for a roof over our heads, put food on the table and parochial school for each of us whether it was some, part or all years of our education.  You learn by trial and error and never, ever give up and that's what mom did with us. She never gave up, though I'm sure she'd have liked to throw in the towel more than once and run for the hills.  The only problem was we could probably all have chased her down and dragged her back.  

Mostly mom just did what the day demanded. She seemed to enjoy baking more than cooking and it wasn't unusual to come home to the fragrant aroma of baking bread or freshly made donuts.  At Christmastime our relatives and friends couldn't wait to get their hands on one of Mom's coffee cakes.  She was an excellent seamstress, a good cook and a great baker. Mom loved to read and as Aunt Pat reminded me, her conversations had substance. She just loved each of us the best way she knew how.and loved us more than we will ever know, of this I'm certain.  

Each passing year I miss my mother all the more. The last few years of her life I was able to be with her day in and day out.  A privilege that will never come this way again.  

Have a scoop of ice-cream in honor of Donna Jean.  Or if you  are hankering for one of Mom's favorites,  German Chocolate Cake, dig in! 

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Today would be Mom's 78th birthday! My parents married at a young age on January 14th, 1950. Children followed rather quickly and Mom had to hold down the fort for the bulk of those years because Dad worked 2 jobs at a minimum, during most of their child raising years.

And no wonder! Amazing Mom had a total of 10 babies and 8 of them within 10 years! Mom had a gleam in her eye that was mesmerizing when she was happy or lovingly teasing someone but especially when she was sharing a happy moment with one of her children. I recall at the funeral home when Mom passed away, a friend of my parent's told me I had my mother's eyes. I loved that! She was an awesome, self-taught, seamstress making who knows how many shirts and dresses, and sometimes winter coats for her family. Not only that, for years she made countless recital costumes for aspiring dancers like me that took months to complete. I still see her late into the night, hunched over her machine, as a light shined down on her work and the only sound was the hum of the wheel whirring as she stitched.

The flip side of Mom, in my observation, is that she carried an underyling sadness though she would never tell you so. I'm only beginning to recognize things I didn't understand. Coming from the generation of secrets, Mom didn't talk much of her childhood. Often one or two of her children sit down together and we discuss family things and marvel at how, for years, Mom was "mum" on most things that had to do with her childhood. And many times we never noticed because she was so busy with a house full of activity but becoming an adult slowly brought about a rite of passage to ask questions. Sometimes Mom just wouldn't go there. She was evasive. Then her story began to unfold, though I'm certain we only ever learned snippets; smidgeons of what her life was really like.

Over the last few years, dealing with my son Cliff, I've lamented in my mind that Mom didn't teach me some of the things I needed to know as an adult. We weren't skilled in the ways of running a home, keeping order and setting boundaries. Only recently my frustration with this issue has turned to sadness and compassion for Mom. You see, as you may have already guessed, Mom was raised by a terribly dysfunctional father who was a lifelong alcoholic. It sounds like he was an abusive one, at that. Mom had very few memories to share of Christmas with her family or any other happy moments. Constantly being farmed out and left in boarding schools didn't give her many treasures in her heart.

We didn't know that. For years Mom, like so many of us family members who don't get it, kept her life story under wraps. These things simply didn't get discussed. Not just by Mom either. It seems that whole generation approached life with a "pull yourself up and button your lip" attitude. My Dad would say it wasn't necessary to dwell on difficult things as it could lead to feeling sorry for yourself. Sometimes that is true and totally applicable. My parents were great about living in the present. But sometimes, when people are unable to function to their God-given ability that answer is an unacceptable lie. If you never address it, "it" never goes away. In moments of trials while raising us, Mom would often be a raging, crazy lady! At least that's what it seemed. Now I see that she didn't know how to handle all these children and was frustrated by what must have seemed overwhelming tasks and challenges. No one taught her and the only life she had was in the light of an insane lifestlye her parents lived.

Oh, but, Mom was a wonderful mother in so many ways! Our biggest cheerleader, always beaming with so much pride when there was some special moment in one of her little chicks lives. She loved my Dad with an unconditional love that exhibited itself over and over and NEVER talked poorly of her husband. My father was her hero; her knight in shining armor who moved her out of a lifestyle where her mother and sister suffered. Yet, the silent offender lurked within Mom's life and robbed her, I'm sure, of certain accomplishments, pleasures and fullfillments she was entitled to. I can't quite pull out all my thoughts yet, but I know I will continue down this path.

For today, I want to celebrate her life as she best knew how to be. She left a loving husband and a legacy of children who were devoted to her.

Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you so :)