Another holiday, and another time that he would not be home for the holidays. In fact, he has no home, he’s under an awning on the side of a building on the streets, with only the clothes on his back and a light jacket. The temperature decreases while the rain increases. He’s hundreds of miles away.
It had been days since the last contact with anyone. I prayed to talk with him, to know he’s alive, and now it’s so hard to hear what he’s saying. It’s hard to imagine his condition. At these times, it’s all too easy to get distracted by my thoughts and imagination, it can take my mind hundreds of miles away.
Just the night before, I held myself and other moms in questioning the thought “my child is wasting their life”. What timing! I’m so thankful for the greater truths shown to me, so divinely inspired, that I will not waste time or his life by putting him in a future I can’t know, by disregarding a purpose given to him by God – despite and maybe because of addiction. I will not waste his life or mine by allowing fear to overshadow or consume this precious phone call with him.
On this phone call, we are connected on this holiday, a day that can be any day, holi-day, a holy day. It doesn’t mean it’s some ideal concocted in my imagination or the dreams I created years ago. It means I join the reality of things and join him on this call. On this day, I am very aware we are both in the moment, heart to heart, I am listening, I get to hear his voice, not trying to change or fix him, not preaching at him, only meeting him with love where he’s at.
Someone gave him a jacket, he confirms he knows some places to get a little food, and has some phone numbers to use to access resources, that maybe some day he might use those phone numbers, that he is aware he made some choices that led him to this current situation. I respond that I hear great wisdom and healthy intentions. Over time, we’ve learned to connect in silent, mutual understanding, even an understanding of what I’ll give, and what I won’t. It’s not always so peaceful, but on this phone call it is. On this day, and any day, I am so keenly aware that most precious thing I can give is a love that has no conditions.
He wishes me a Happy Thanksgiving. Though I can’t say those words back to him, my communication is loving, supportive, and loving him where he is, how he is. I’ve had to work really hard to get there, and continue to work at that so I can meet us both in this more loving place, more often than not. Is it happy? By what definition of happy? In the moment of connection, there is a sense of happiness that we’ve at least connected lovingly, but only when any expectations for some kind of unrealistic ideal is released.
Grief is present, however, I am still so grateful to have heard his voice, grateful for these moments, always grateful for these moments. Love holds me, and holds him, and will guide us, in this moment and any moment. His home is in my heart, always. There, he is home on this holy day!
From my heart to yours, may there be peace!
Weeds or Wishes ?