It was Thanksgiving day. My son was in the hospital on a ventilator unable to breathe on his own since he had over-dosed on Saturday. What was there to be thankful for? What? I was consumed by that question playing it over and over in my mind. I had already been to the hospital to see him that day. I had already had that same discussion with the doctors that I had every day since this began; this was BAD. I was going through the motions of preparing a turkey for the dinner that night. I would take it out of the oven to baste it while crying. I wasn’t making any sounds but the tears were streaming down my face. I was trying to make a nice dinner for everyone and yet my son was not going to survive. There was denial for you. If I just kept doing today what I did yesterday tomorrow will be fine. It wasn’t faith that had kept me going. It was my friend DENIAL. The green truth is naïve but denial allows us to see and do what we want or are able to. Denial is born from self preservation. The mirror knows that it is the enemy of the real truth and accountability; deep down inside we know that too. It’s why we all defend to “the death” so many moments even if the cost is ourselves and or others. How are addicts any different from non-addicts if we all deny or justify our roles in the circle of heavell?
The phone rang as I stood staring at the oven. It was my stepson. He had called to ask me about Ryan. I relayed that discussion with the doctors that had never changed. He asked me if he should fly in to see him. I had told him it would probably be a good idea. I’m not sure what someone should say in response to that deliberation of “this is bad”. What words, if any, could have brought me any sort of relief from the enormous pain in my heart? That exchange has not been limited to me as many people have moved from the parent’s of a drug addict group to the parent’s of dead addicts group. Even having lived it has not provided me with the right words to say when the loss of someone else’s dream occurs. “I’m sorry” is easiest but it simply does not acknowledge enough. Now you see me, now you don’t is all of us at some point in time. As parents we need to be seen as well as our poster children; death does not ever remove a dream from a parent’s heart nor from the circle of heavell.
I loaded that turkey into my car and drove it over to my parent’s house. The smells coming from their kitchen were wondrous and had evoked many memories of my childhood. I loved Thanksgiving because it was about family being together while enjoying a special meal. It was Ryan’s favorite holiday for the same reason. Everyone there was basically acting as they had at all the previous Thanksgivings. Had they been in denial of the state of Ryan? Or was it an appearance thing? Faith? Part of me completely understood their being in the moment and the other part of me felt unsupported. There were people in the group though who made everything about themselves; I was glad they had not forced their fake support on me. Food and dialogue had been in some ways a reprieve, a distraction, from the pain.
Ashlee and I left to go to the hospital together. There was no one else I would have wanted next to me at that visit. She and I had linked our arms together while standing there staring at Ryan. With her by my side I was stronger despite my tears. I don’t know if she knew that but I was. We had been the ones who had known him at his best and at his worst. Both of us had taken a few minutes alone with him. After she left the room, I leaned over and whispered in his ear. I told him that I loved him; that I would always love him. Nothing would ever change that. Several times, over that year of addiction, people had implied or directly expressed that I should let him go. I had refused because he was MY POSTER CHILD. My dream. I then whispered the words I never imagined I would. I told Ryan that he need not stay any longer…to just let go.
One soul was sold. The snake is friends with the apple, the green truth and denial. So are we. The mirror can’t help but show the real truth. Angels do fall. My dreams are important. So are yours. How do I feel about drugs? When you breathe, I breathe. I’m not screaming anymore. I will always see you. This time I will have to let you go…
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