I’ll just be vulnerable for a minute.

Because writing can be therapeutic. 

Because Anne Lamott told me I could.

Because I’m equal parts sad and angry right now.  No, more angry than sad.

I’m also a little envious, and I know that envy is bad.  Really bad.  But if you have a mother that you have a good or even decent relationship with, I’m a little jealous right now.

I’m also frustrated.  And at a loss.  And sharing this if I get brave enough because WHY? I don’t know yet. I can find solidarity with others, maybe? Someone will have a magic answer on what to do?

I AM THE DAUGHTER OF AN ADDICT.  There.  I said it.  I never wish to share this.  I never wish to say negative things about the woman who birthed me.  And here we are . . .

This addict had open-heart surgery on October 11^th.  Oh, she nearly died.  She had to be care-flighted from one hospital in Fort Worth to another in Dallas after a torn aorta was discovered.  It was rough, and she ended up having a second surgery, but she survived.

Then the withdrawals began.  I knew my mother had a problem.  I did not know to what extent.  I still do not know everything – what I do know is this: she was hallucinating, experiencing tremors and had to be restrained because she became too combative.  My mom.  Restrained at a hospital.  Because why?  Her addictions.

Guess who gets to experience the hurt from all of this? Her daughters. Yeah. I'm the eldest of four girls.

My sisters and I, circa 1990, 91?

She detoxed, finally.  But she’s still very confused. Mentally lost.  I just spoke with her on the phone today – she is not all there.  I do not recognize this person.  But to be honest, I haven’t for years.  I haven’t had a good relationship with my mom for YEARS.  Because why?  Her addictions.

And now? The hospital plans to release her soon.  WHERE TO? A homeless shelter, if a family member does not take her in.  Because she was unemployed, with no insurance, and has nothing.  Nothing.  My mom does not have a home. Because why? Her addictions.

I will not allow my mother to go to a homeless shelter and neither will my sisters.  We are currently working something out, which looks like her coming to my home.  I am raising six children, so have NO IDEA how this will work, but I am also still her daughter.  And she is still my mother.  And I will not send her to a homeless shelter after open-heart surgery and withdrawals. 

She can’t walk or bathe without assistance, and she’s still out of her mind.  Her neurologist is unsure if she will ever be in the right mind again or not.

You know what caused this?  Her addictions.

I’m angry with her.  I’m the child in this scenario, not the parent – yet I am going to have to take care of her.  This is not the order of things. This is not fair.

Is this wrong – all I’ve said thus far?  I’m praying a lot – I know God is asking me to put aside my pride.  I know that. I’m working on that. Pray for me.

I also know He is helping me because I have the very best friends checking in on me, making sure I’m okay, and He gave me a husband who looked me in the eyes just today and said “I’m with you. Whatever you need to do for your Mom, I’m on board,” FULLY knowing the burden it will be on him as well.

I know God is with me when He shows me what I have with my children – oh, my, how I’ve been blessed in that department. My children can be trying at times, don’t get me wrong. But they are one of the biggest sources of the joy I experience daily.  And speaking of my children -  I AM GIVING MY CHILDREN WHAT I BELIEVE EVERY CHILD DESERVES. A mother who is committed to putting them first, not me.  I am not my mother. I will never be my mother. 

But I am still a daughter.  I still have to be there.  I still love her because she birthed me, raised me, comforted me when I was a child.

Unless disability kicks in before next week, which is highly unlikely, I’ll soon be caring for my mother.  An addict and post open-heart surgery patient. 

If you’ve read up to this point, thanks. I appreciate you letting me vent to you in a sense. 

Also, pray for us?  All of us? My mom – my sisters and their families – my family . . . we can use them like crazy right now. Please. Just take one second and pray for us.

I am angry, yes.  But more than ever – God’s grace is present. I still feel it.  I will never deny that.

This too will pass – right?

Until next time . . .