Updated: Aug 15
You died 10 days before your 61st birthday. I always expected you would be around longer because you were such a fighter and had been through so much in your life already. Sadly this wasn't the case. Addiction doesn't give a shit. I got the phone call at work and almost fainted when I heard. It's still hard to believe you are gone forever. In the end your demons won or did they? I'm not really sure at this point.
At your best you were kind-hearted, joyful, saw the world through the eyes of a child, strong and resilient. But the moment you put alcohol or drugs in your body all of that vanished. All of a sudden you were filled with anger, disgust, hatred and fear and you allowed it to swallow you up. You believed the lies your addiction told you. Why? Because you never reached out, you never connected, you never trusted another human being and you never chose to give yourself the love you so desperately needed. You were caught in the middle of the battle between good and evil within and you chose not to seek help. It brings me comfort to know you are finally at peace. There will no longer be the dreaded phone call or text message from you about some other crisis you are having.
There was a time when you were doing really well and I'm grateful to of made memories with you while they lasted. Somehow I always knew they would be short lived because you were always one bad thought away from sinking deeper into a hole that had no escape. You taught me all the things I never want to be for my own daughter and instilled in me wonderful qualities. For this I thank you. And so I cry for you, I cry for me and I cry for my daughter who never really had a relationship with a grandmother she could count on. You did your best and I forgive all the bad decisions you've made throughout our short time together in this life. I am angry at your addiction. I am angry at the addiction that still runs rampant in my sister's body. Being a recovering addict myself I know the struggle in the mind well but I chose to change, I chose to get out, I chose to love myself, I chose to trust, I chose to show up for myself when no one else could. That is the difference between me and you. It was always what caused us to butt heads. I refuse to allow this kind of pain to be passed down to my daughter. The pain stops here.
There's only one thing I ask of you now, I ask that you take all of the pain you passed down to me and bury it with you. I ask that you take all of your fears and mine and bury them with you. Perhaps now you can support me the way I always needed you to. I believe that you will. You had a good heart mama and it's hard to breathe some days when I think of the reality that I will never get to hug you or talk to you or hear your laugh again but I have to believe all of this isn't in vain. I have to trust that there is a reason this took place. I have to hold on to faith that something good will come from this because I still refuse to go back to my old ways of coping. I will not become stuck in a dark hole with no escape. I will continue reaching out for support, I will continue trusting my chosen family, I will continue to show my daughter that life is a wonderful roller coaster and we get to choose how we want to ride it. You will be missed and never forgotten. I love you mom.
To read more on my process of recovering from addiction follow this link, click here.