Dear God:
As you know, I’ve spent a good deal of my 47+ years on this planet wondering how many of the 10,000+/- people I’d meet during this lifetime would prove to be true - that is, sincere, caring, selfless. So far, I’ve met a few - very few, though - less in total than the fingers of one hand. Still, you know that I’ve chosen to hold onto the notion that such people are out there somewhere and that if/when I ever needed them, you’d send them to me. Of course, in seeking such people, I’ve always known that I had to work on being that same kind of caring person and you know that I’ve always sought to find my own voice of truth, sincerity and selflessness - in case you ever wanted to send someone to me for that same purpose.
Well! Who’d have ever figured that the very people who have eluded me for so long were right under my nose - just a mere 60 miles from my home - at Penn Foundation?!
Surely you remember the utter devastation, shock, and confusion that rocked my world some 2-1/2 weeks ago when news of my son’s substance abuse was called to my attention. I wondered how I’d survive the terror and dread that consumed me in a mere instant. Remember the hole I wore into my dining room carpet as I paced back and forth hour after hour all night long sobbing and wondering where to turn - what to do? But, I was never alone, was I? None of the families who deal with this disease are alone, are they? No, none of us need walk this walk alone, if, of course, we avail ourselves of the wonderful support network of truth and sincerity in place for us at Penn Foundation.
I expect that some of the counsel we, as families, will be receiving as our loved ones progress through the Penn program of recovery will be difficult to hear - some of the directives even more difficult, perhaps, to enact. We don’t seem to be a very humble bunch - we humans, but I can see that succumb to humility we must - and ride the wave of change we must in order to not only survive, but to overcome the storm of addiction that has struck our families. Let us be tough when we need to be tough so as not to enable this disease and let us be soft when we need to be soft so as to forgive our loved ones and focus on better days ahead. Please help me to do these things - help us all.
Something positive seems to be emerging from the ton of grief weighing on my heart these days. You are aware that I’ve spent year after year - decades of my life - crippled to some extent by regrets - regrets that I didn’t finish college, regrets that I never pursued my passions - financial regrets - and more. I’ve wasted all this time thinking that my routine existence was mundane, boring. I didn’t think that simply sending my children off to school with clean, ironed clothes and breakfast in their bellies, tidying my house, grocery shopping, reviewing homework, driving kids around, paying bills, working, etc., equated to a meaninful, productive existence. My goodness! How could I have been so far off the mark?! In learning how my son’s substance abuse has ravaged his ability to function, ate away at his beautiful spirit and led, in simplistic terms, to a life that just doesn’t work, I am now grateful for my normalcy, my routine, my life, my soul. Thank you. And, please, continue to help the folks at Penn give normalcy back to my son. I now appreciate that it’s a beautiful thing!
Finally, I wonder if you would do something for me - can you give the dedicated, tireless folks at Penn Foundation some kind of special reward for their tireless efforts - for keeping my son on board with his recovery when he wanted to bail - for nurturing, directing, feeding and watching over him every day during this process, even when he resists? Can you please take special care of family counselor Alan as he has been nothing short of amazing? Maybe line his angel wings with gold or something? Or just give him a special reason to smile today? Maybe he’d enjoy a slice of his favorite cake, a new CD, or just a simple nap. And, don’t forget to somehow thank the families of the folks who work so hard at Penn - Alan’s wife, for example - for without their loving support of this work, perhaps my son wouldn’t be getting this help he so desperately needs to get his life back on track.
Thank you.
Debra
Oh, and P.S. - If you need me to give a listening ear or even just a tissue to another heartbroken family out there, can you let them know that I’d be honored. We are, after all, in this battle together.
Just one more thing - PLEASE soften my son’s heart and the hearts of the other 32 inpatient residents at Penn to accept the help they are being offered, as I am sure that somewhere inside, at their core - they are each wonderful people; just in pain right now and lost.
Thank you - again.