A new year

Each year’s end  – like an anniversary – stirs reflection.

The new year marks ten years since since my son moved to Florida, ten years since our lives changed forever.

Obviously, I don’t know what it is like to have an addiction.  But I do know what it’s like to love someone who does.

Ten years ago – because I loved my son and ached to help him – I walked into a Lutheran Church on a Sunday evening to test Al-Anon.   Little else had helped.  So why not try this?

Withdrawn, trembling, terrified that someone might recognize me, I wasn’t sure I would stay.  But the kindness of the three women and two men kept me anchored to my chair.

And when the meeting ended, a huge hug from the leader ensured I would keep coming back.

In years since, my son has whispered that one day I might be “grateful” for that time in our lives.  Really?  Would I wish addiction on any family?  No, but I am grateful for what living with addiction has taught me.

• Understanding.  Whether addiction is a disease or a chronic condition, it’s something many people have.  We need offer compassion and help where we can.
• Acceptance.  Our family has this. Lots of families do.  There’s no blame.  No shame.  It just – is.
• Non-judgmental.  Who am I to tell another person what he or she should or shouldn’t do? It’s hard enough managing me.
• Humility.  Addiction strips away all pretense. Naked before friends, family, colleagues, it forces the mantle of honestly

And finally, rising from anguish like a mighty oak is the belief in something outside and within me.

Whatever it is,  addiction has taught me to be grateful for a new year.

Because with “new,” there’s always hope.