When trust changes

A parent will ask, when can I trust my son or daughter again?

Until high school Jacob was healthy, smart, college-bound.  A cross-country runner, member of the band, surrounded by other smart, healthy and college-bound kids, he was the light of our lives.

No matter how busy our days, his father and I made sure we were home most evenings with home-cooked dinners and time to talk about work and school,  to plan for the next cross-country meet, or rough-house with our two greyhounds (as much as greyhound rough-house).

We laughed a lot, too.

But addiction upended all that.

When it gripped our household, it ate away at all that had been routine.  Jacob dropped off the cross-country team.  Grades dropped.  His first year of college ended in failure.

And the laughter died.

It took years of recovery – he in AA and I in Al-Anon – before the word “trust” re-entered our conversation.  One evening, after his first year in recovery, he phoned us seeking help for a deposit on a car. We had promised support if he achieved that first-year milestone and remained clean.

Across the thousand miles between Maryland and Florida, gripping my cell phone, I gave him my credit card information.   In that one affirming action, it struck me that my son now had full access to my card.

Today, after more than ten years in recovery, we both recall that moment.  We laugh how that call heralded a new trust between us.

Married and immersed in a new business, Jacob is no longer the “boy” who was addicted to drugs.  He is a grown man who faces real-life challenges and joys.

Today, I not only trust my son.

But thanks to Al-Anon and years of practice, I trust in him.