Last week I was in the magical land of New Mexico for my birthday. The unending beauty, the pure silence, and the sunrises and sunsets, food, food, and food; the treats of multiple massages at various places…all was exactly what I needed. And I mean NEEDED. I had no expectations (except to eat as many chili rellenos as possible. And flan.), just hopes of being able to share with my husband a special place I had lived as a child, and for us to unwind.
I got so much more!
I woke up on my birthday, to a fire crackling in our fireplace, a beautifully written card, and the excitement of eating a huge brunch, before heading over to the mineral pools and spa area. Ojo Caliente. Look it up! Birthdays are phone call days, which for me (as an introvert), is an event in and of itself. My first call was with my dad and step mom. They were in the car, driving to Tahoe to go skiing, on speaker phone, so I got to talk to both of them at once. We got to reminisce about living on the Indian reservation decades ago, talked about the day ahead, and about how the night before, Rich and I saw 6 shooting stars, while watching the meteor shower in the high desert; they got to say some really deep and meaningful things to me, which is such a gift. I felt weird about bring the conversation to an end with something that sounded “downerish”, but I had to….I said to them, “I think you guys should call Aidan….he won’t answer, but just leave a message. I am not sure how long he is going to be alive.”
Yes. I said that. I feel that a lot. I think about it throughout each day. I scream about it. I almost throw up over it. My mind goes to very dark and detailed places. The things I picture, and the thoughts I have, would make any parent feel like the floor has been ripped out from under them, and you are just falling, down, down, down…..there is no end…no bottom….just falling. So yea, even on my birthday, I feel the need to say this to them.
I am scrolling through some news, and see a story called, “My Precious Son Died 4 Years Ago. Here’s What Life Is Like With This Hole In My Soul.” (Here is the link to the story- From HuffPost ). Of course I read it! For me, hearing from other moms is actually comforting in an unexplainable way. I do not stay away from, nor do I avoid the reality of the disease of addiction. I am so moved by her piece, and gut punched by the fact that her son died on December 14th, that I decide to email her, before heading over to get brunch. I also forwarded this article to my dad and step mom. Here is my email to the author:
Hello. I just finished reading your incredible piece about your son who died. It hits me today on so many levels. Today is my birthday. I’m 54. My oldest son is 27 and shares a similar story to that of your son. Opioid addiction, 8+ treatment centers, medical detoxes, all of the gut wrenching things that go along with this disease.
This morning, when I had a birthday phone call from my dad and step mom, I said to them at the end of our conversation , “I think you should call Aidan. He won’t answer, but maybe just leave a message. I don’t know how much longer he will be alive. “. I really had a feeling I would get that unimaginable phone call, on my birthday. But I didn’t. I got a text from my son. So I do know he is alive. But. The constant worry of getting the call, the chronic images I see in my mind’s eye, the screaming and crying I do when alone in my car……etc. it’s unbearable.
You said something in your story that I say a lot and am met with push back. And that is- addiction and alcoholism are not the same. They just are not! I know this deep in my soul. I’m 14 years sober (alcoholism) and wish I could give my son my sober time, because it seems near impossible for opioid addicts to piece together large amounts of continuous sobriety. It is not the same! So thank you for saying that.
And thank you for sharing your story. I agree- we must have new discussions, new systems, new treatment, new everything really. What we have now is NOT working. Obviously.
I am so sorry you have gone through and continue to go through so much. I know there are no words.
Sending a bear hug.
Thank you so much.
And then we went to eat…and do our spa day thing. The food was delicious. The mineral pools were beautiful and soothing. The massage was……………
The massage was so much more than a massage. I actually came out of it, slowly walking down the hall toward my husband, who could tell something had just happened, when I plunked down next to him and simply said, “Um. I just had a transformative experience, there are no words for it yet, but there will be.” We both smiled.
My young, native American massage therapist and I talked briefly about all of my scars from melanoma and biopsies, as I seem to feel the need to explain this in a massage setting. I told her about the 10 years of Respect the Rays, all of my cancer shit- the foot, the arm, the eyeball, the foot again, etc… And then I mentioned that going forward, I may be headed toward some kind of something in the area of addiction/stigma/opioid use. That my oldest son has been battling this for about 8 years. And she looks at me, with her deep, brown, almost black eyes; looking into my soul, is what it felt like…and she said, “That was me. My sister and I were both using drugs. And one day, I just decided to stop and I never looked back. That was 10 years ago.” She was very soft spoken and calm, whereas I wanted to squeeze her and yell how amazing she is, that, look at you…a young woman, with an incredible career, doing something you love and having a life worth living!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But I couldn’t do that. Cuz. You know. It’s a spa and such. I did manage to contain myself and let her know what a gift she is, and that she gives me hope, and that she is proof that miracles do exist.
Ok. So there’s that. We then go for a plunge in yet another mineral pool, and head back to the room to get that sparkly fire going again. Blissed out and energized at the same time, from my experience, I decide to check email…just on the off chance this writer/mom had responded. Because today is a day of unexpected miracles. SHE WROTE ME BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I read her response out loud. One, because I wanted Rich to hear what she said, and two, because I couldn’t believe it was real, and maybe hearing it would convince me. I forwarded my dad and step mom my email to her and her response back. I’m not sharing her words to me here, because they are somewhat private, and because what I am getting to (eventually, I will get to the point of this story, I promise!) is that CONNECTION between people can be so profound, so moving….even if you are meeting them for the first time, naked, with lavender oil or emailing with someone you have never met. The bond is strong. The connection amongst us- amongst the moms of children who are in the throws of addiction, amongst my fellow recovering alcoholics/addicts. The connection is so powerful, and helpful, and critical really.
This gift…the gift of connection, is something I am so grateful for, and know that without it, I would not make it. That is the truth.
Thank you to ALL of the wonderful women I am blessed to know! You know who you are!
Little Truth Tales 