He can't seem to put one foot in front of the other and actually make it through the door to detox.
Addict ramble, addict ramble. Got arrested again. The revolving door of jail continues.. Going to still go...
Still not there..he just doesn't want it bad enough. Although sometimes I think he does want recovery - it is just fleeting. It goes on and on.
Went through the city yesterday where he is homeless and addicted. Stopped by my parents graves and realized it was the 20th anniversary of my dads death. Wondered what my dad would be thinking if he had any idea what has become of my son.
Text my son to tell him it has been 20 years - my dad was the most important person in my sons life as a child..an indescribable bond. He has tattoos dedicated to his grandpa. His first deep hurt that he never could get over was the death of his grandpa...
I didn't stop in the city to meet up with him. We just kept on driving. Letting go.
Thank you for your reflective notes. I totally get what you share. I live the same story in Oregon with my 23 year old son. I don't click into these blogs often, ...as I am busy, but your's caught my eye this early morning. God bless you with wisdom, peace, and even joy. - Deirdre
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