For the Love of an Addict

To love an addict is the most emotionally draining relationship to carry.
Do you know one?
A family member, friend, spouse, or a co-worker?
Are you one?
What's your part in the relationship?
Maybe your lucky enough to be an audience member. 
Fortunate, you only have to sit and pass your judgement on the act playing out in your distant vision.
Maybe you're the dealer or the drink provider, the devil himself.
Maybe you are simply the enabler who thinks they are helping, supporting.

The biggest question I ask myself multiple times a day is, "Am I enabling or supporting?".
I often wonder if they are one in the same.
Is it possible to even be supportive without enabling?
Everyone's perspective of it is different.
What one views as being supportive can be viewed by another as being the enabler, and so the opposite also holds true.
It's definitely a Catch 22.
It's been a life long controversy in my head.
I've never put it on paper, never talked about it with another human, and never asked about it.
Just sat and argued with myself in the corners of my day and cried.
I've been lectured about it, but never asked how I feel about it or how I've lived with it.

I've carried on many conversations with the rising sun and the night sky about it.
Their beauty never gave me answers but always lifted my soul for a moment or two.
It got me through many days.
The thought of my loved ones always in the back of my head.
Often wondering how did they even get here?
How do they not love themselves enough when they obviously have so many that love them?
I never understood it.
How could I? I'm not an addict. I'm the enabler. The supporter. The comforter.
The one who doesn't get it.
The one sitting on the outside.

It's a burden to love, just as the addiction is a burden.
I wasted so much time trying to understand their choices.
Trying to be in their heads.
I never even had the urge to try any of it, how could I understand it?
So much energy wasted on the wondering and the what if's!
It is heartbreaking to know they don't love....couldn't love themselves enough to quit.
Their lives incomplete without it.
Like the need for a cup of coffee or a good book.
The need for their poison more important than anything or anyone in the physical world.
Maybe they were just waiting for death to come knocking.
Trust me, I'm not judging. Just thinking it through.
Still wasting time on wondering.



It hurts on this side (in case you wondered).
I've been raging mad, brought to my knees with sadness and cried tears that didn't matter.
I've spend much time in exhaustive worry.
Scared of the worst images my mind could conjure.
Overwhelmed with feelings one should not have to feel.
Conquered by the fear.
There is no winning here.
People just don't talk about it.

So, we've warned our children.
It's a dominant force in our lives.
They all know it's there and it's a risk to make this choice.
It could engulf them.
Or, as it was with me, it may not be appealing.
I pray this to be true.
I pray for them eternally that they won't know.
That they won't be the addict.
That they won't have to know the duties of the supportive enabler.

I've watched addiction. I've watched recovery. They are both a fight that never ends.

Have you ever listened to the tree's?

I sat, Indian style on the back deck paying special attention to the unseasonably warm November night, originally just wanting to gaze at the sky. I wasn't expecting the quick, engulfing dense fog or the heaviness of the moisture that began surrounding me. Comfortable in my sweatshirt & yoga pants, I never did catch a glimpse of the night sky. I could scarcely see the tree that was only 25 feet in front of me. It became eerily creepy on this fall night. The surrounding traffic noise was practically non-existent and my sense of hearing on heightened alert because of the rapid change in the visibility.

It became apparent that the trees, still heavy with leaves, were dropping them at a fairly quick rate. I can only assume it was because of the heaviness of the fog. The sound was a fairly relaxing beat, seemingly on purpose. You could here them floating to the ground one after another with pause between. Like a planned rhythm from the percussion's of a symphony. The largest tree on the right, the lead and the three smaller playing in from the left. Some floating to the roof, a heavier sound than those hitting the ground and then the swoosh of the leaves falling to the tarp covered play-set gliding eventually to the slide. Still noting the lack of visibility. I had a faint light coming from the kitchen window, but for the most part could no longer see the path to the door. The fog even more dense now and the tree's apparently enjoying their song, were almost teasing me with their antics. I sat wishing I could witness the leaves sound creation but grateful to have experienced the synchronous vibration of the night. The one tree sitting bare of leaves (I'm sure feeling left out), with a double trunk that twists into each other,  joined in with a barely noticeable movement. Like the sound of an embrace that you would miss unless you were truly paying attention. An appreciative sigh.

The chill eventually got to me and I meandered back to the house with a grateful grin and a calm heart, still listening as the tree's continued their song. I stepped inside, absorbing the warmth but longing to listen to the trees for eternity. 

Sandra Murdoch-Becker

Copyright November, 2015

Dance the Dance

The world is going to throw us situations that hurt us, anger us and sometimes knock us down. It's all in how we choose to dance the dance that makes the difference in how it affects us. Sometimes we can just feel it and let it go.  Sometimes we feel it and hold on for a bit.  Sometimes the dance is insanely long, drawn out and makes us hate the dance. The hate turns to resentment, bitterness and hardening of the heart. I've been here too many times to count. Too many times to waste my time trying to recall after all the time wasted in that state. It's a long trip back to loving the dance.

Right now, in this moment, I'm sad and just trying to dance through it with forgiveness. I'm trying really hard to dance this one with dignity and grace! I want the frustration to dissolve; my sense of calm to return. Unfortunately, I'm not dancing this one alone and we're all trying to stay in sync while dancing to a different tune. Each has his own steps to complete before the music ends and it's looking more like a mosh pit here than a ballet.  Although mosh pits can be an adventure, I'm getting a little old for the chaos involved. Ahhh, but the chaos brings change, so bring on the mosh pit!

 

We'll dance the dance and be better parents, a better family because of it. I hope the others involved will see this. Next time we will dance with more compassion and understanding. I hope that everyone learns from it. I've never claimed to be perfect and never will. I have plenty of faults and mistakes that I have to dance through. I have learned however, that if I allow situations to exist without speaking up, the behaviors are reinforced. Not just by the originator of the circumstance, but by those that observed it.

 

So, dance the dance and do it with a smile, a sense of peace, forgiveness, thankfulness and love! 

More than she knows....

If only for a moment our children could see how we see them, how others see them....they would feel, see and accomplish miraculous things, their fears would become non-existant!

Staring through the rain,

Annabelle Becker sees sunshine,

where others can only imagine darkness.

She dreams of powerful music

to ease her through life's open doors,

As she rides a carousel elephant,

among the star showers in her head.

She dreams of bigger places

than her hometown,

She knows not what takes her there,

just that she doesn't stay here.

There's something out there,

in the shadows of her path,

She's destined to discover.

Annabelle can fly beyond

the worlds vision

Painting or playing...

   -the unseen

   -the unheard

   -the unimaginable

She's the girl in the mirror,

The confident reflection,

of her own perfection.

The one every girl secretly

wants to be like.

Her wings have broken the cocoon.

She's the girl that doesn't know

her own value,

The one that will inspire and amaze this world

with her talent,

If she'll just stop, close her eyes

and see! 

Sandra Murdoch-Becker

Copyright October 8, 2015 

Summer's Gone

Summer vacation here & gone

   not enough time...

      for layin' in the sun,

         watching clouds breeze by,

             or chasin' fire flies.

Another school year crept up too fast.

My kids,
growing and moving at the speed of light.
My eyes & brain unable to fathom
their yearly transformations.

They're excited, nervous, anxious

moving up a grade, new school, college bound.

Yet, if they only knew

that I feel the same...

for them, not me, as they face the new year.

Tears well up in my eyes as they start this yearly journey

   new friends, old friends, maybe an enemy

      teachers and classes, some they love, some not so much.

Homework, quizzes & tests, papers & projects.

Hopeful they'll cope, scared they'll choke.

Pacing and waiting for their day to end...

"How did it go?"

"Did you ace your test?"

My worry usually proven unnecessary

    but occasionally perfectly warranted.

I will stress away the year,

     things will end exactly as they should.

Everyone will have grown,

       I will have aged, too much.

Next thing you know another summer break,

    around the corner.

The process inevitable!

Farewell to Bri

fare·well

ˌferˈwel/

exclamation

exclamation: farewell

1.

used to express good wishes on parting.

(NOT Goodbye)

"Some people live more in twenty years than others do in Eighty. It's not the time that matters but the PERSON."
                         ~ The Doctor


     I scribbled a thousand thoughts on paper, rearranged them, crossed them out and wrote more...none of them were adequate. There are not enough adjectives in the languages of the world, not enough musical notes, song lyrics, church hymns, or Dr. Who Quotes to appropriately describe Brianna Lynn.

     Brianna IS a daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece, cousin, girlfriend, friend, a child of God....even in death this remains. Her love, our love does not waiver.  She exists for all of us, forever....that bright beautiful soul is here, always.  The truest form of Brianna never dies.  Let her bring you peace.  She will blow your tears dry.  She will listen when you call. She will touch you gently when you need it.  She will be your protector.  She will give you courage. Feel it?  BELIEVE, have FAITH! She is forever the light in our darkness.  Our souls are pure energy. Energy has no beginning and no end. It can never be destroyed. It just changes form. She is all the stars in the sky, the lightening in the storm, the moon peaking through the clouds, the beauty of a rainbow, the dancing of a butterfly in flight, and the sunshine when you need it most.

     Brianna was excellent at keeping us on our toes - high alert status!  She carried that stubbornness with grace! Always ready for the fight, always getting her way. However, she would turn in a heartbeat and give anything you needed...the shirt from her back, the shoes from her feet, a much needed hug and OH, that smile or the one raised brow smirk! She was fun, artsy, goofy and loved to laugh. She was kindness; she was beauty in every sense of the word - but especially from the heart! She loved fiercely...her friends, her animals, her man, her family!

     But...God had a plan - it wasn't ours. No preparation...we deny, we get angry, we mourn, we regret, we question with the "What if's?". We wonder with the "I should have's?". We know though...none of it would have changed anything. Now we have moments of her life to keep us company, to keep her close. Pictures on paper, memories in the mind...we can hear her laughter, her tears, her joy, her anger, her voice; we can feel her love. That will never fade.  I am comforted by the last memory I have of Bri. I can stand at my kitchen window, whenever I want, I can look into my backyard and I can see her sitting with Jason, holding hands, smiling.  I will have that forever. She may have left this world, but know that she left us happy! These moments in her life, that are a part of our lives, is what we will cherish, hold dearest in our hearts, in the depths of our Souls. Then, when our time is here, we will have that reunion, a new moment with Brianna in heavenly eternity (where she is more than likely running the show)!

"Realize deeply, that the present moment is all you ever have!" ~ Eckhart Tolle 

 

Thirteen

I wrote this 4 years ago when Annabelle was graduating from 8th grade. Never typed it out.  I found it today folded up, scribbled on wide rule lined paper shoved in a box. As she finishes her last day of High School today, it couldn't have been a stronger sign telling me to put it out there....

She's thirteen going on twenty,

Doesn't have a need for her Mother.

She thinks she's in control.

Got it all covered now,

Boys, friends, school...

She knows it all.

My Baby isn't a baby any more,

She's heading for the stars,

Zooming beyond the moon,

Breaking her Mother's heart,

But making her so proud.

She's dancing through life

on a silver lined cloud.

Social butterfly, wings spread wide,

Artist, musician, athlete.

Running every direction...

Totally cool (unlike me)! 

Moving at the speed of light.

No time to look back.

Dominating this game called life.

In a camera's flash...

Leaving behind stories and memories

in her dust.