Letters To My Daughter – A Recovering Addict Attempts To Save Her Daughter From Addiction
I try to write with my grandmother’s rule of thumb, write 30 minutes everyday, I usually write way more than 30 minutes within the course of a day. I am working hard and finishing my final draft of 30 Days of Recovery, of which I am trying to reach the goal of having it available as an E-book by the end of March. I still may reach my goal but I have begun a new writing project, not that I don’t always have a million projects going on all the time anyway but this one started a few weeks ago and I didn’t even know it was a possibility until yesterday.
You see some of you know my daughter Mariah, who is 16, is giving me a lot of trouble. She has taken every step in my footsteps to a “T”. She rarely falters from this path she’s following and she has opened a door she cannot ever close. She has opened the door for addiction. Fortunately we decided to retract our claws and spend the afternoon together. I tricked her and said we were going to this hippie shop in Lockport, which we did go and they had closed and the antique shop “Just Lookin'” took over and it was amazing and we both loved it. Anyways the catch was we had to make a stop on the way to visit someone with both loved very much, my dad’s grave. I hoped that it would shake something up in her like it does for me, we know he’s not there, we know he’s always watching over us like he did until the day he died. Something amazing happened when we gave him his green mums, (Not a 4 Leaf clover but it was green), Mariah and I sat there for what seemed an eternity sharing everything with each other and rekindling our lost and strained relationship. We laughed and cried and shared secrets. I will never forget yesterday, she never once said can we go home now, she never complained about , “can we get outta here” and she had agreed to go to the NA speaker Jam with me for an hour or two, but we ate at subways and got sleepy, we had been gone for hours as it was and we talked all the way home from Lockport. I will never forget it. I am also not naive, I know what can still happen to her but bottom line is its a start, she agreed to several things that will help her so much to deal with her pain too. I’m so proud of her.
One of the things we talked about that relates to this “project” is that we had started a journal several weeks ago to communicate with each other, some days it worked other days I was the only one writing in it. well she uses it when she wants too bottom line is we came up with the idea to maybe publish it one day, “Letters To My Daughter,” she is so excited about it and that’s how we got started on our passion for writing. She’s got all these stories in her head and it’s just so cool we reconnected on things we love to do and new things as well. Anyway she and I are going to continue to open and honest in our letters to each other and maybe one day it will help some other mother’s and daughters and give them our experiences and help them identify and maybe not make the same mistakes we have made, we are going to make and show them in one way or another they are not alone. I know it may not turn out as we hope it will but in a few years our letters may unfold something beautiful, something terrible, something sad, maybe something including all of those things. We just don’t know what the future holds for any of us, we cannot change the past, or predict the future only today, that’s all we have is today. It’s a beautiful thing to dream, and set goals and get excited about them but we don’t know what’s going to happen. That is probably the scariest thing of all with my daughter and all of my kids, I have know idea what comes next. I have to teach them the right thing is often the hardest thing but we do it anyways because it’s right. I must continue to live this way, I must continue to change, I must continue to get better, I must continue to fight, and most importantly I must remember it’s today that counts, it’s today I have to enjoy, makes choices both easy and hard, and that’s the best I can do for my kids, my Harry, my family but most importantly, for me.
- Dear Kimberly, From Your Eight-Year-Old Self (theoohlalalife.com)
- Ontario mom calls for new attitude toward addiction in wake of son’s death (metronews.ca)