Buckle Up
(Two of Three parts)
It`s day one and this journey looks like it`s going to be rough. I`m not driving but damn it I was asked to be co-pilot on this trip. That doesn`t mean that the driver will listen, even if I am her mother. After all it`s her trip through life`s struggles, not mine. At this stage of the game, she`s an adult and she will be choosing her destination. I will hold the map, willingly give her directions, but I`m not taking bets she`ll listen let alone follow them. Usually with this kid, I could say “take a right” and she`ll turn left just out of spite.
“I need your help, Mom. I need you to hang on even if I push you away”. My baby states matter-of-factly.
There is no emotion as she stares directly ahead. No rise or fall in the pitch of her voice as she tells me her life is falling apart.
“I haven`t been without alcohol for a full twenty-four hours since Dad died.” Sobering is her voice though she is not.
My life now begins to unravel. Her declaration reminds me that he suffered from the same demons. His alcohol/drug content mixed with an ATV, ended his life four and a half years ago. To top it off he died on Father’s Day. Father`s Day, for Christ's sake!! My mind swirls with questions.
Can she, do it? Do I have the strength to help her? I think to myself.
I was young when I met him (her father), nineteen and full of sass. I already had a three-year-old daughter and an ex-husband. (not divorced but legally separated) Heck I figured I could love those demons out of him. I should have been strong enough, shouldn`t I have? But instead, I ran from that relationship after nine years. We spoke only when we had to over the next 14 to 15 years.
Then, my mother passed in 2006 and to my surprise he inquired if he could attend her church services. He didn`t want to upset me and would only attend if I gave him permission. It was because of that action and that show of respect to my mother that we began talking again. We mended old wounds (he apologized for the harm and fear he caused me) and found a friendship for the sake of our family. Slowly those talks developed into Tuesday family nights for the next two years.
Physically he was unable to go without alcohol without suffering severe withdrawal symptoms. So, I told him, he was to be drug free and could not consume any more than a six-pack in the course of the day on Tuesdays. He agreed and surprisingly complied. I never fully felt I could rely on that outcome but looking back he did put in an honest effort. I had miss that feeling of family and to see my girls smile as we played Wii bowling after a meal together felt good.
“You shattered our lives once again, you Bastard”, I yell tearfully to an empty room. “How could she even take a drink knowing it led to your death? Maybe she wouldn`t even be drinking if you were still here!”
“Damn you! Save her, watch over her please”, I now beg.
I need to blame him even though I know it fixes nothing. I feel better just screaming. The release of emotion helps me summon the strength to stand against what lays ahead. Or at least that`s the premise of it. I need to replace fear with anger.
Oh, dear God…. I can`t lose her too! I pray silently begging in my mind.
She had asked to come home three months prior, I thought because of a failed relationship. I had wondered why she`d put up with that guy’s arrogance and let him treat her so badly. Hadn`t I taught her better than that? I wondered. Did she see too much before her father, and I split up? The alcoholic violent outbursts, the beating that took me from work for three weeks. Did she hate me for kicking him out? Are the thoughts that keep me from sleeping again tonight.
I`ve got the feeling this process is going to be tough on my ears let alone my standings as her mom. Am I ready for her description of me?
Think I`ll check that buckle again.
Part two of a three-part entry. The first - “I Wish I Knew” Coming soon- “Baggage”
✨Be the Light 💕