I'm a fighter. I am all for love, compassion, understanding, etc., but when it comes to it, I'm a fighter. Give me bad news, I want to fight. Argue with me, and my hands ball into fists. Make me mad enough, and I might lash out. When someone I love is hurting, I want to hurt whatever it is back. Maybe it's genetics, there is a fairly significant proportion of Scots-Irish genes in there. I wouldn't discount the temper I got from my dad's side of the family either. In a lot of ways I like my fighting spirit. It gives me an edge, a backbone when I'm blindsided by something, the will to stand up and fight for what I believe in.
Of course, when someone I love is sick, or in the hospital, and there's not a real culprit to go after, I feel helpless. I feel impotent. It makes me angry. And it is supremely frustrating when I feel like there is nothing I can do to help.
This has been a very, very frustrating week. My grandmother had surgery and they've been having trouble managing her pain. She's doing ok, but there's nothing I can do to help her feel better. Nothing to fight, nothing to do but wait and pray and worry.
A good friend found out that her husband's cancer is incurable, inoperable, and there's nothing left for them to do. He's going home to die. She is understandably devastated. And I feel helpless. There is nothing I can do for her. And I want to do something.
I want something tangible I can fight. Something physical I can do. I hate just waiting and praying. It doesn't seem fair. I feel like there should be more I can do, and when the answer is pray...it sometimes doesn't feel like enough.
It seems like I don't put a lot of faith in God, but that's not true. I do. God is always listening, always with us. God hears everything. God hears us when we ask for things. Sometimes I just don't like the answer. Sometimes I want the answer I want, and I don't get it. Like all children, I want my way and I'm prone to tantrums when I don't get it. So I pray. I may be mad. I may be asking why. I may be questioning. But I pray. I talk. I yell. I cry. And God hears all of it, and sends back the answer and maybe I like it, maybe I don't. But I keep the conversation going. And when I have nothing to fight, nothing physical to do, maybe I'll clean the kitchen instead.
Maybe I'll stand there attacking a stubborn spot and asking why can't I do more, and maybe the answer is because I've done all I can with my limited means, and the rest of it is a job for somebody bigger, and older, and wiser than me.
I give my son that answer a lot. You aren't old enough. You aren't ready to do that. You've done what you can. He's a tough kid. I'm a tough kid. Being a tough kid doesn't always mean that there's something you need to do. Sometimes it means that you have to be strong enough to let it go. To accept that what you want isn't what is going to happen. Not my will. Not my way. I still don't like it. But I'm working on accepting it.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Friday, March 16, 2012
Another year...
This last week was quite busy for our little family. First, Brian, our oldest, turned 5 on March 8. We celebrated with a big family party on the 9th and then took him bowling on the 10th. Watching Brian's journey from tiny baby to 5 has been pretty remarkable. It's hard to believe sometimes that he is only 5, and at other times that he's already 5. It's hard to remember what life was like without him, but time has also just flown by. I think back on big events in his life and realize that what seems like yesterday was really 2 or 3 years ago...or more. He is now an articulate, thoughtful, goofy, wild, loud, curious, smart little boy. He'll be heading off to Kindergarten in the Fall and I'm not sure I'm ready for that, although I know he is. He is tough, and smart, and also incredibly thoughtful and sensitive and sweet. I pray that he keeps his tenderness and his sweetness, through all the roughness of school and life. He is growing into a wonderful little man, and it really is my privilege and my joy to be part of his journey.
Second, today (March 16) is Teddy's birthday. He turned 1, and I am having a hard time dealing with it. I think I've been in a bit of denial all day. My little baby, who a year ago at this time was just about 34 minutes from making his debut (it is 9:15), is now 1. We were still waiting to meet him and find out who he was and what kind of person he was going to be. A year in and we know that he is sweet, snuggly, funny, opinionated, shy, loving, and tiny. He is my little peanut, which I think makes it harder to believe that he is already 1. It's hard to believe that it has been a year since I was in labor, a year since he came into the world. I remember all the anticipation, all the frustration with false labor and braxton hicks contractions. The hope that this time was THE time, and the disappointment when it wasn't. And the final, slightly dramatic entrance of my second son into the world. And the discovery that from the minute he was born he was not the same at all as his older brother. They were similar in looks, but it ended there. Where Brian was alert, and curious, and go-go-go from the second he was born, his Teddy was sleepy, and mostly wanted to just snuggle and sleep. He had the most concerned look on his face right after birth. Not angry, but just kind of worried. And he has been more of a worrier, and less secure, and less open to new things and people, but has always, always been snuggly, and sweet.
Second, today (March 16) is Teddy's birthday. He turned 1, and I am having a hard time dealing with it. I think I've been in a bit of denial all day. My little baby, who a year ago at this time was just about 34 minutes from making his debut (it is 9:15), is now 1. We were still waiting to meet him and find out who he was and what kind of person he was going to be. A year in and we know that he is sweet, snuggly, funny, opinionated, shy, loving, and tiny. He is my little peanut, which I think makes it harder to believe that he is already 1. It's hard to believe that it has been a year since I was in labor, a year since he came into the world. I remember all the anticipation, all the frustration with false labor and braxton hicks contractions. The hope that this time was THE time, and the disappointment when it wasn't. And the final, slightly dramatic entrance of my second son into the world. And the discovery that from the minute he was born he was not the same at all as his older brother. They were similar in looks, but it ended there. Where Brian was alert, and curious, and go-go-go from the second he was born, his Teddy was sleepy, and mostly wanted to just snuggle and sleep. He had the most concerned look on his face right after birth. Not angry, but just kind of worried. And he has been more of a worrier, and less secure, and less open to new things and people, but has always, always been snuggly, and sweet.
So here's to another fun, and crazy, and frustrating, and wonderful year watching my boys grow.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Free will, choices, creation and God
I try to avoid the news generally. Not much good is ever reported, and usually a whole lot of bad. Lately a few things have been making the news that even I haven't been able to ignore. But before I get into that, I'm going to preface it with a few comments about what I believe in the way of God, free will, and choice.
I believe that from the beginning of creation we were granted by our creator the ability to make choices, whether good or bad. I feel there is some solid scriptural evidence for this. God did put the forbidden fruit in the garden with the instruction to leave it alone, but left us with the ability to walk up the tree and choose to have a piece. If he had not intended us to have the ability to choose Eve would never have been able to succumb to temptation because she never would have been able to make a choice to ignore God's will.
I think God did this because obedience and faith that is born of free will, that is from a choice to believe and adhere to the commandments is far more precious and rare than obedience and faith that is forced. He gave us the rules he wanted us to follow, he sent his Son to give us a reminder of those rules and provide an example of how to live them out, but in ALL of it, he never once took away our ability to choose differently. Maybe it would be easier if he had, because then we would all agree on everything and it would be sunshine and roses all day long.
But I have to say, I am grateful that he did not. I love a good debate, I love different ideas, I love creativity. I love how many different ways we find to express joy, sadness, anger, love, passion. I wish that more of us could recognize and respect that we were all created differently, and that we were all created with the ability to make our own choices. Free will is a God-given gift, it should be respected as such.
Which brings me finally to the news I was talking about. First, the easiest one (in my mind), is the debate surrounding same-sex marriage, and homosexual people in general. Whether you believe they choose their orientation or you believe they are created that way (I believe the latter), what you have to respect is that no matter what, they are a creation of God, and like all of God's people, they have free will and choice. They can quite simply do whatever they like, and in the end that's between them and God. Our job, our sole responsibility, is to love them. We were not sent to fix them (they aren't broken, in my humble opinion). We are a far greater witness of the love of God if we extend that unconditional love, grace, and acceptance than if we spend our time telling them how wrong and awful they are. And very simply, regardless of your private morality and belief system, you have absolutely no right to force that on a person who does not believe it. So let the churches do what they want. As far as the government goes, these people are citizens and they deserve all the rights and privileges of citizenship, including the right to be married.
Secondly, and more complicated, is the debate around abortion. Right up front, I am pro-choice. I am not pro-abortion. I wish we lived in a world where abortions were never needed, where women never felt that they had to make such an awful decision. But the sad reality is, they happen. It is not a new phenomenon. And I, again, have no right to force my personal beliefs on another human being. And we cannot ignore the rights and decisions of the person who is actually here in favor of the potential person they are carrying.
So again, as a person who believes in God, and also respects the decision of my creator to give me free will and choice, I respect that He has done the same for all my fellow human beings. And the decisions those people make are between them and God. I will not judge them for that. (Or I will try very hard not to.) I will try to love them. To support them. To offer advice if it is asked for. I will not condemn them. Because I truly believe that if Jesus were walking around today, he would not be hanging around the Vatican. He wouldn't be chilling in my church's office. And I don't think he would be carrying a torch and pitchfork and going after gays and lesbians, or standing outside the abortion clinic with a sign. What would Jesus do? Think about it, and then go do the same. Thank God you have the ability to make the choice to do so.
I believe that from the beginning of creation we were granted by our creator the ability to make choices, whether good or bad. I feel there is some solid scriptural evidence for this. God did put the forbidden fruit in the garden with the instruction to leave it alone, but left us with the ability to walk up the tree and choose to have a piece. If he had not intended us to have the ability to choose Eve would never have been able to succumb to temptation because she never would have been able to make a choice to ignore God's will.
I think God did this because obedience and faith that is born of free will, that is from a choice to believe and adhere to the commandments is far more precious and rare than obedience and faith that is forced. He gave us the rules he wanted us to follow, he sent his Son to give us a reminder of those rules and provide an example of how to live them out, but in ALL of it, he never once took away our ability to choose differently. Maybe it would be easier if he had, because then we would all agree on everything and it would be sunshine and roses all day long.
But I have to say, I am grateful that he did not. I love a good debate, I love different ideas, I love creativity. I love how many different ways we find to express joy, sadness, anger, love, passion. I wish that more of us could recognize and respect that we were all created differently, and that we were all created with the ability to make our own choices. Free will is a God-given gift, it should be respected as such.
Which brings me finally to the news I was talking about. First, the easiest one (in my mind), is the debate surrounding same-sex marriage, and homosexual people in general. Whether you believe they choose their orientation or you believe they are created that way (I believe the latter), what you have to respect is that no matter what, they are a creation of God, and like all of God's people, they have free will and choice. They can quite simply do whatever they like, and in the end that's between them and God. Our job, our sole responsibility, is to love them. We were not sent to fix them (they aren't broken, in my humble opinion). We are a far greater witness of the love of God if we extend that unconditional love, grace, and acceptance than if we spend our time telling them how wrong and awful they are. And very simply, regardless of your private morality and belief system, you have absolutely no right to force that on a person who does not believe it. So let the churches do what they want. As far as the government goes, these people are citizens and they deserve all the rights and privileges of citizenship, including the right to be married.
Secondly, and more complicated, is the debate around abortion. Right up front, I am pro-choice. I am not pro-abortion. I wish we lived in a world where abortions were never needed, where women never felt that they had to make such an awful decision. But the sad reality is, they happen. It is not a new phenomenon. And I, again, have no right to force my personal beliefs on another human being. And we cannot ignore the rights and decisions of the person who is actually here in favor of the potential person they are carrying.
So again, as a person who believes in God, and also respects the decision of my creator to give me free will and choice, I respect that He has done the same for all my fellow human beings. And the decisions those people make are between them and God. I will not judge them for that. (Or I will try very hard not to.) I will try to love them. To support them. To offer advice if it is asked for. I will not condemn them. Because I truly believe that if Jesus were walking around today, he would not be hanging around the Vatican. He wouldn't be chilling in my church's office. And I don't think he would be carrying a torch and pitchfork and going after gays and lesbians, or standing outside the abortion clinic with a sign. What would Jesus do? Think about it, and then go do the same. Thank God you have the ability to make the choice to do so.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
What do you see?
"I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians, they are so unlike your Christ."~Gandhi
We have been doing a series on major world religions in Church the last several weeks. Today we talked about Islam which is perhaps the thorniest of the world religions, at least in the current climate. The thing that has really stuck with me today was a story that our pastor relayed. He told us about a time when he was a youth pastor and he brought an Islamic man to talk to the youth about his faith. The man asked them what they see when he says that he is a Muslim. Nobody wanted to answer and finally one of the youth raised his hand and said that he sees a man with something wrapped around his head carrying an automatic weapon. I honestly believe that most people, especially here in America, have the same image.
My husband and I have been discussing this subject most of the afternoon and we both agree...this is not our image of Islam. For us, we see a people who are devout. We see people going about their daily lives: shopping, raising children, having conversations, praying. Mostly, we simply see people. What struck both of us though is when asked what we see when we think of Christians. Although both of us claim Christianity and we know many wonderful Christian people, that is not the image that we see. We see people like the Westboro Baptists, we see Jerry Falwell, we see white supremacists. We can easily see the hate, the fear, the hypocrisy of people who claim to follow Christ. And we can understand the view of Christianity that Gandhi had. And we can also understand that those groups and those people are a small minority that do not speak for all of us. And we can extend that grace and understanding to the people of Islamic faith. We accept that a small, violent, extreme faction does not represent the whole faith.
Do I agree with everything Islam preaches? No. But I recognize our common root, I recognize a common truth, just as I do with anyone who earnestly seeks to know God. For me, what is important is not how the belief is exercised or to whom an individual prays. What matters is that they seek truth, that they seek God, that they live out lives of love and peace and compassion. However God reveals Himself (Herself? Itself?) to that person is not important to me.
And what really is important, because it is part of my faith as a Christian, is that I follow the direction given to me by Jesus in Luke 10:27: "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all
your strength and with all your mind'; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'" I see no condition there that my neighbor must share my beliefs, or that my neighbor should look like me. All people, everywhere, are my neighbors, and sometimes I am not going to like what they do. But I have to remember the grace and forgiveness that was given me and extend that same grace and forgiveness to all people, everywhere. That is how I can love my neighbor and how I can best show God's love to them.
I fail sometimes. I am quick to judge. I am angry. I am unforgiving. I am ungracious and unloving. But I will always strive to recognize my mistakes and be again the example of God's love in the world. We all fall short of the glory of God. But through grace we are saved and redeemed, and again we go into the world to serve and to love. If we focus on the service, and on service born of love, we will be a more powerful voice and example of the love and grace of Jesus Christ in the world. It is an ongoing goal, and place for growth, and challenge. Because I often fail. I fall short everyday. But I will try. I will speak up in love. I will defend my neighbor. I will provide a hand up. I will try.
My sincere hope and prayer is that all those who claim the Christian faith will do the same.
Friday, December 16, 2011
The reason for the season....
I have been struggling with Christmas this year. Normally this is one of my favorite times of year. I love the lights, the music, the fun with family. I have really come to love playing Santa and looking for and finding the perfect gift for Brian. It's a wonderful time of year.
But this year...I'm not feeling it. The music is not bringing me joy, the season is not filling me with hope, and mostly I feel worried and stressed. And I would venture to say that 99.999% of it is my own fault. Here's why.
I can't be content with what we have. Most of the year I can deal with the fact that my husband and I are poor. We may have middle-class aspirations, ideals, and values...but let's face facts. We are poor. Paying bills every month is a balancing act...do we pay this one or that one? How long can we let this one go before it has to get paid? Throw necessities like paper towels or toilet paper, shampoo, etc. into the mix and it starts to get really interesting. Start adding in needed clothing and well...let's just say buying socks fills me with dread because I worry about all the other things we have to buy, too.
And now..Christmas. The time of presents. My oldest son is old enough to know all about Christmas and presents. And we have gotten him a few things. Nothing big or elaborate, but probably more than he needs anyway. But my husband and I are going on our 4th year of not buying each other gifts. And I don't think we'll be getting our newest little guy presents this year. There's just not room in the budget. And it hurts me to see all my friends and family talking about their Christmas shopping and their budgets and all the things they're going to be getting and buying and doing and hoping for. And I feel so woefully inadequate. What kind of parents are we that we can't buy our children and each other even simple gifts?
I know the platitudes. I know that gifts are not the reason for the season. I know that what we're celebrating is not financial security but the birth of Jesus Christ who came to save us from a lot more than an overdrawn bank account. It still hurts.
I am trying to remind myself that I am giving my children things that do matter. A home, electricity, running water, food, love. And by world standards my family is wealthy because we have all those things and more. And we have a wonderful family that cares for us and I know that my children will not want for anything this Christmas. But I wish I could do more for them. I wish I could give them everything, even though I know that what I am giving them is far more valuable.
I am giving them a marriage that is loving and stable. I am giving them a father who works hard and loves them. I am giving them a mother who is working so hard to finish school and provide an example of what determination and perseverance and education can get you. A mother who loves them. I am giving them healthy meals (most days of the week) and memories of baking and cleaning and playing.
I am giving them so much. But I worry that it won't be valued. That it will be disappointing. That it won't be enough.
We had an interesting sermon this Sunday about blessings. Most of us think of blessings as material things, or stuff that makes us feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I know I tend to think of blessings that way. But here's what I've been thinking all week. God has blessed my family with poverty. We have enough. We do not have an overabundance, but we have enough...barely. Some months I swear we make it with not an inch of breathing room, but we do make it. And yet we still desire to give. We want to help those who are hurting, who have less, who are in far more need than us. Our poverty has given us compassion, empathy, kindness, generosity. We value our things less and each other more. God has blessed us. And when I think of it that way it makes not being able to have a big Christmas a little easier. God has blessed us. We are poor, but I do not believe we will always be so, although I have no aspirations for great wealth. I think we will always have what is sufficient, what is needed. And we will always have a greater strength of faith and generosity and compassion and hope because God blessed us with poverty.
I hope that God blesses you in ways that you do not expect, in ways that bring you closer to Him this Christmas season.
Merry Christmas!
But this year...I'm not feeling it. The music is not bringing me joy, the season is not filling me with hope, and mostly I feel worried and stressed. And I would venture to say that 99.999% of it is my own fault. Here's why.
I can't be content with what we have. Most of the year I can deal with the fact that my husband and I are poor. We may have middle-class aspirations, ideals, and values...but let's face facts. We are poor. Paying bills every month is a balancing act...do we pay this one or that one? How long can we let this one go before it has to get paid? Throw necessities like paper towels or toilet paper, shampoo, etc. into the mix and it starts to get really interesting. Start adding in needed clothing and well...let's just say buying socks fills me with dread because I worry about all the other things we have to buy, too.
And now..Christmas. The time of presents. My oldest son is old enough to know all about Christmas and presents. And we have gotten him a few things. Nothing big or elaborate, but probably more than he needs anyway. But my husband and I are going on our 4th year of not buying each other gifts. And I don't think we'll be getting our newest little guy presents this year. There's just not room in the budget. And it hurts me to see all my friends and family talking about their Christmas shopping and their budgets and all the things they're going to be getting and buying and doing and hoping for. And I feel so woefully inadequate. What kind of parents are we that we can't buy our children and each other even simple gifts?
I know the platitudes. I know that gifts are not the reason for the season. I know that what we're celebrating is not financial security but the birth of Jesus Christ who came to save us from a lot more than an overdrawn bank account. It still hurts.
I am trying to remind myself that I am giving my children things that do matter. A home, electricity, running water, food, love. And by world standards my family is wealthy because we have all those things and more. And we have a wonderful family that cares for us and I know that my children will not want for anything this Christmas. But I wish I could do more for them. I wish I could give them everything, even though I know that what I am giving them is far more valuable.
I am giving them a marriage that is loving and stable. I am giving them a father who works hard and loves them. I am giving them a mother who is working so hard to finish school and provide an example of what determination and perseverance and education can get you. A mother who loves them. I am giving them healthy meals (most days of the week) and memories of baking and cleaning and playing.
I am giving them so much. But I worry that it won't be valued. That it will be disappointing. That it won't be enough.
We had an interesting sermon this Sunday about blessings. Most of us think of blessings as material things, or stuff that makes us feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I know I tend to think of blessings that way. But here's what I've been thinking all week. God has blessed my family with poverty. We have enough. We do not have an overabundance, but we have enough...barely. Some months I swear we make it with not an inch of breathing room, but we do make it. And yet we still desire to give. We want to help those who are hurting, who have less, who are in far more need than us. Our poverty has given us compassion, empathy, kindness, generosity. We value our things less and each other more. God has blessed us. And when I think of it that way it makes not being able to have a big Christmas a little easier. God has blessed us. We are poor, but I do not believe we will always be so, although I have no aspirations for great wealth. I think we will always have what is sufficient, what is needed. And we will always have a greater strength of faith and generosity and compassion and hope because God blessed us with poverty.
I hope that God blesses you in ways that you do not expect, in ways that bring you closer to Him this Christmas season.
Merry Christmas!
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Nostalgia...
Lst night as I was falling asleep I was remembering the day that my children were born, Brian in particular. I had a difficult labor with Brian but what I was remembering was the moment he was placed in my arms.
We regarded each other for several minutes and I remember this look on his face. This sweet, wondering, trusting look...which gave way shortly to this face:
He really hated the shot and the eye ointment. I also remember that I began to love my husband in a whole new way that day. This remains my favorite picture of them:
What I remember most is how my life changed that day. I love my husband and if I lost him I would be heartbroken. But my children are part of me. They are part of the very essence of me. If I lost Brian or Teddy some essential part of my soul would be broken. Before I had children I had no idea that it was possible to love someone that much. But the very first minute that they put Brian into my arms some part of me changed forever.
I remember being afraid that I would not love Teddy as much, that there was no way I could love any other person as much as I love Brian. I was so wrong.
I remember the days my children were born. They were days that changed me in ways I could never have imagined. My children are vital to me. So even though Brian drives me crazy more often than not, and even though Teddy seems to think that the only time he can be happy is if I am around or holding him, they give me joy. They complete a part of me I didn't know was lacking. They fill me with wonder. Being their mother is one of the greatest privileges I have ever known. I am so grateful and so blessed.
What I remember most is how my life changed that day. I love my husband and if I lost him I would be heartbroken. But my children are part of me. They are part of the very essence of me. If I lost Brian or Teddy some essential part of my soul would be broken. Before I had children I had no idea that it was possible to love someone that much. But the very first minute that they put Brian into my arms some part of me changed forever.
I remember being afraid that I would not love Teddy as much, that there was no way I could love any other person as much as I love Brian. I was so wrong.
Say what you need to say...
But of course sometimes you just can't bring yourself to open your mouth and say the words. That's why I thank God every day that I can write. It makes saying what I need to so much easier sometimes.
I need to say that watching someone you love die in front of you is hard. Losing someone you care about to disease is hard. When that person is choosing their disease and everyone around has to watch, that's worse. I'd almost rather they had cancer. At least with cancer it's not their fault. They didn't go out and pick up a bottle of cancer.
Watching the people around them try to cope with their sickness, especially when we all know they could be so much more, that's heartbreaking. You want to enjoy being around them, you want to remember the way they were, and instead you are constantly forced to confront the reality that the person you liked and loved and cared about isn't there anymore. It's like watching someone disappear into Alzheimer's or dementia except they're choosing to disappear. And you want nothing more than to make a different choice for them because you want the person you love back.
I don't want this person back just for me, either. I want this person back for all the people who love them. For my children, for my family. I want us all to have many many more years with them. I want Christmases, and birthdays, I want the joy of family dinner without the awkwardness of this giant, reeking elephant in the room. I want to stop being angry at the selfishness and disregard for the pain everyone else is suffering because of their actions. I want to trust them again. I want so many things. What I don't want is to keep watching them destroy their life.
And what I'm afraid of, what terrifies me more than anything else is the thought that the life they destroy might not be their own. Every time they choose to drive I am terrified that someone is going to pay a horrible price. I don't want to see them on the 10 o'clock news because they killed a family. Or a couple of teenagers. Or them self. I don't want my family to have to cope with the repercussions of vehicular homicide, or their own death, or an aggravated DUI. Part of me is furious that they can't see that we would all suffer because of their stupid, selfish choices. Most of me is just waiting for it to happen.
And a really big chunk of me is just angry. Angry that people I love have to be in so much pain while this person tries to figure out what the hell is wrong. Angry that they refuse to even acknowledge that what they are doing is wrong. Angry that they don't understand how many people and lives they endanger everyday. Angry that they refuse help. Angry that I am going to have to tell my son that someone he loves is gone and never coming back because they were selfish, and stupid, and stubborn. Because unless things change, and soon, they are going to die. Or they are going to kill someone else and end up in jail for a long time.
The saddest part is, the person we're all watching self-destruct doesn't really exist anymore. They're a shadow of who they used to be, so in a way they've already died. Or that person is buried so deep that they may as well have. We're all left with a person who is really just a pathetic shell of the person they were. It is heartbreaking and all of us are heartbroken about it. Because we've lost someone we love so much and I don't know if we'll ever get them back.
I need to say that watching someone you love die in front of you is hard. Losing someone you care about to disease is hard. When that person is choosing their disease and everyone around has to watch, that's worse. I'd almost rather they had cancer. At least with cancer it's not their fault. They didn't go out and pick up a bottle of cancer.
Watching the people around them try to cope with their sickness, especially when we all know they could be so much more, that's heartbreaking. You want to enjoy being around them, you want to remember the way they were, and instead you are constantly forced to confront the reality that the person you liked and loved and cared about isn't there anymore. It's like watching someone disappear into Alzheimer's or dementia except they're choosing to disappear. And you want nothing more than to make a different choice for them because you want the person you love back.
I don't want this person back just for me, either. I want this person back for all the people who love them. For my children, for my family. I want us all to have many many more years with them. I want Christmases, and birthdays, I want the joy of family dinner without the awkwardness of this giant, reeking elephant in the room. I want to stop being angry at the selfishness and disregard for the pain everyone else is suffering because of their actions. I want to trust them again. I want so many things. What I don't want is to keep watching them destroy their life.
And what I'm afraid of, what terrifies me more than anything else is the thought that the life they destroy might not be their own. Every time they choose to drive I am terrified that someone is going to pay a horrible price. I don't want to see them on the 10 o'clock news because they killed a family. Or a couple of teenagers. Or them self. I don't want my family to have to cope with the repercussions of vehicular homicide, or their own death, or an aggravated DUI. Part of me is furious that they can't see that we would all suffer because of their stupid, selfish choices. Most of me is just waiting for it to happen.
And a really big chunk of me is just angry. Angry that people I love have to be in so much pain while this person tries to figure out what the hell is wrong. Angry that they refuse to even acknowledge that what they are doing is wrong. Angry that they don't understand how many people and lives they endanger everyday. Angry that they refuse help. Angry that I am going to have to tell my son that someone he loves is gone and never coming back because they were selfish, and stupid, and stubborn. Because unless things change, and soon, they are going to die. Or they are going to kill someone else and end up in jail for a long time.
The saddest part is, the person we're all watching self-destruct doesn't really exist anymore. They're a shadow of who they used to be, so in a way they've already died. Or that person is buried so deep that they may as well have. We're all left with a person who is really just a pathetic shell of the person they were. It is heartbreaking and all of us are heartbroken about it. Because we've lost someone we love so much and I don't know if we'll ever get them back.
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