Wednesday, 18 June 2014

The Heart of a Mother


The Heart of a Mother

By Rose Barbour

With her broken heart
She prays each night
Hoping for the day
That her child will see the light.

Feeling alone in the darkness
Her heart can hardly bear
The thought of her child
Sleeping on the street somewhere.

There is no rest for the weary
As one crisis follows another
The pain runs deep
In the heart of a mother.

Not much help to be had
Only stigma and shame
As she suffers in silence
In this deadly game.

The strain on her family
And relationships, too
But, she loves her child
What is she supposed to do?

It takes a strong mother
To love one with addiction
Why she was chosen
I believe, is God’s recognition.

He knew she could handle it
He knew the depths of her love
He knew he could trust her
With His child from above.

This nightmare may have made her
Question her faith
But, I have no doubt that in Heaven
For her, God has a special place.

Written by: Rose Barbour

Dedicated to all the parents who are carrying unbelievable burdens.  I know you don't feel like it, but you are strong and amazing. After all, this journey is not for the weak at heart.

Sunday, 15 June 2014

Daddy, I Love You


Daddy, I Love You

By: Rose Barbour

What a precious child
She’s a gift from above
When I first saw her
I fell in love.

On that day I made a promise
To always protect her
She’s my little girl
Oh my God, I love her.

I protected her from bugs
And little worries in her head
I protected her from monsters
Living under the bed.

I fixed bicycles and wagons
Scooters and dolls
I tended to fevers
And the occasional fall.

She was happy and safe
As every little girl should be
The world would be her oyster
Just wait and see.

But there came a day
When things started to change
My little girl became distant
And was acting strange.

She no longer wanted to spend time
Doing the things we enjoyed
She was always in her room
What was wrong? Was it a boy?

I could feel it in my gut
Things just weren’t right
She wouldn’t talk to me
It was always a fight.

One day I found the problem
In a drawer in her room
A bottle of pills...Oh my God
This can’t be true.

No please, not my girl
With such promise and hope
Not my precious girl
Dear God, NO!

Addiction has claimed her
It is scary and real
My sweet little girl
Why can’t you feel?

Let daddy’s arms embrace you
Take away the pain
We can overcome anything
Just trust me again.

Take my hand and let me lead
So that all will be well
Let daddy do his job
And get you out of this hell.

“Daddy, I love you
But this is mine to fix
I need serious help from others
With your love thrown in the mix.

I am still your little girl
That will never change
I am just lost right now
It is all very strange.

Enough about me
You deserve a good day
Give your mind a rest
And let your worries melt away.

You are the best a girl could ask for
With your loving ways
I will always love you, daddy
Happy Father’s Day.”

Dedicated to all the dads on this journey who tend to be quieter, but who hurt just as much.


Friday, 13 June 2014

Let your love be the light


My son and I were talking the other day about addiction and the various ways that families try to deal with it. There are no right or wrong answers when it comes to dealing with this cruel disease. With broken hearts and shattered dreams, we do the best that we can in the hopes that it will help our loved ones to get well. We want nothing more than to have them healthy again.

After years of trial and error (it was more like hell, actually), Mike and I found what worked best for us. It was to keep our son close, being very careful not to enable him. We supported him, not his disease.  We found the right balance for our family.

He knew the rules and respected them, which made it possible to keep him close. We were not putting our other children, pets or ourselves at risk by having him around. He was not aggressive in the least and I thank the good Lord for that!

One of the best rules we implemented was not answering right away if he asked for something. We would tell him to call us back in half an hour. That way, we could talk about it and determine if we were helping him or his disease by saying yes to his request. We never gave him money.

He was welcome to drop by anytime we were home. His visits gave us an opportunity to love him up and gently encourage him to seek help. We would tell him how much we loved him and that we wanted nothing more than to have our boy back, living the life that he wants and deserves. We did not say this in anger or to make him feel guilty. Our words were from the heart.  He didn’t seem bothered or annoyed by our “lectures”. He seemed to listen, but he is a quiet soul anyway so it was hard to tell.

We would also feed him. Lord knows his body was malnourished and needed it. Food is also good for the soul.

While he was talking or watching TV, I would look at him with a heavy heart. He was thin and had sores on his face. Without being too obvious, I would search his face, neck, hands, and arms for any signs of health issues. I would see track marks, which saddened me. Damn, I hate this disease.

I would also silently pray for the right words that would get through to him. There was my beautiful, sick child in front of me but I couldn’t reach him. I wanted to shake the disease right out of him. All I had to offer was love. I felt helpless and frustrated at how powerless I was. I knew that if I lost him, I would lose my world. Yet, I couldn’t do anything about it. As I said, this is a cruel disease.

It turns out that I wasn’t so powerless after all. During our conversation the other day, he said to me, “I always loved coming home for a visit. When I was having a really bad day it always made me feel better to be around you guys. Even when I was going into withdrawals and feeling sick, being at home made it easier and gave me hope.” I can’t tell you how much it meant to hear him say that! Even in the darkness of addiction, our love got through to him. We showed him that there was a better way to live.

My advice to other parents is to express your love in the best way you can, based on your situation. You can give lots of love from a distance, if need be. If you only see or hear from your child once a year or less than that, make sure they know that you love them and that you are there when they’re ready for help. Keep yourself safe and your love strong. Let your love be the light in that dark place they are in.   

Our son has been in recovery for almost eight months. We are so grateful. Never give up!

Sincerely,
Rose


Sunday, 8 June 2014

The Mask


The Mask

By: Rose Barbour

After another sleepless night
Filled with worry and regret
She has to start her day
My God, is it over yet?

She gets out of the shower
Leaves her face bare
She doesn’t have the energy
To even style her hair.

She runs a brush through
Pulls it up off her face
Life is so damn hard
She wants out of this place.

She is ready to go
“Where is it?” she asks
Oh, there it is
Her happy mask.

It has become a part of her
An essential piece
She doesn’t leave home without it
Oh, the secrets that it keeps.

It hides her devastation
The sadness in her eyes
It makes her look happy
It stifles her cries.

The mask throws them off
With its smile so sincere
No one seems to notice
That she is barely there.

She suffers in silence
Behind the smiling mask
She wants to be left alone
That’s all she asks.

In a moment of weakness
A wayward tear falls
The mask is cracking
She’s going to lose it all.

Her friend comes over
Are you okay?
She can’t tell her the truth
There’s no way.

She won’t understand
The pain of an addicted child
She won’t understand
How her life’s gone wild.

How she cries herself
To sleep each night
Dwelling on a life
That just isn’t right.

She doesn’t even know
Where her child is
He could be dead
How do you explain this?

She tries to say
I’m fine, I’m okay
But her friend insists
And she won’t go away.

She decides to open up
She takes off her mask
Her friend listens intently
Right to the very last.

As she sobs with grief
Her friend takes her hand
Removes her own mask
And says “I understand”

Written by: Rose Barbour


http://shadowsinpei.blogspot.ca/2014/06/the-mask.html