Twelve men and women sit around a table agreeing on what should come next. The subject of their discussion lays sprawled out on the floor, big, brown and unflappable. A loud gnawing emanates from his corner. He’s chewing on a bone, oblivious to the decision that will bring in others of his species. The all-volunteer …
It’s a common word and maybe a little overused today. Compassion. Fostering an intense caring for another’s plight, it sometimes stirs up action – like sending in an army, lending money, delivering groceries, or just making soup. But that loving feeling was not always part of my life. When my son fell into addiction in …
On a recent stroll I spotted two men at the entrance to an elementary school parking lot. A 10-foot wooden gate had locked in the closed position. The men were trying to free it. When I returned about 30 minutes later, they had. Last week a leak sprouted from a fire hydrant at a nearby …
In addiction circles it’s a common phrase. It turns up over time. First, parents yearn for their child’s sobriety, praying for the time when alcohol or drugs will no longer come between them and their son or daughter. Then, as it happens for many, the child finds sobriety. For the first month, or ninety days, …
Accept it. Moms – and dads – just want to be helpful to their children, no matter the child’s age. It’s a lifelong commitment. But what happens when that child has an addiction? And you are told to “detach with love” – as a helpful maxim dictates. How does that change the rules? What’s allowed …
Research suggests that alcoholism and other forms of addiction are genetic. Or, at least, it seems to run in families. Maybe that’s partly why it snuck up on us. We know of no genetic link in our family. Recently, I stood at the exit of a fellowship meeting in South Florida alongside my son watching …
This is no auditorium. There are no endless rows of padded seats. No one is standing at the door handing out programs, and no one will scurry to add chairs for a standing-room-only crowd. Instead, at the front of this church hall stands a small table. There are no flags or potted ferns. And certainly, …
My son says it’s counterintuitive. Parents love their children. That’s a maxim. And they do all they can to protect them from harm. But when that harm is self-inflicted, what is a parent to do? Funny to think of it now, but when Jacob was abusing pills, and I was desperate to stop him, these …
They are fresh-faced and cleanly dressed. All nine of them. Young men in their 20s and 30s, they are gathering at my son’s home for a meeting. Each extends an arm. My eyes lock on theirs as we clasp hands. They are clear-eyed, unafraid, entirely cordial. These men will spend the next hour in what …
A friend whose adolescent son struggles with anxiety, depression – and addiction – recently said to me, “I want more joy in my life.” For an instant I just stared at her. Who doesn’t? I wanted to shoot back. Instead, I picked up her words, like a light sweater on a cool day, and slung …