Getting Closer Every Day

When they were little boys, my boys thought I hung the moon and dipped it in sprinkles just for them.  And I would've if I could've.  My favorite Mother's Day Memory is the Mother's Day that they all jumped on their bikes early in the morning and headed over to the nearby miniature golf course and returned with muddy bouquets of iris's that they presented to me with pride, like future car thieves handing their momma the keys to a pink cadillac.

Then things happened.  They became teenagers. I got divorced. They became resentful. I became swamped with guilt.

So I left.  Not physically, not at first anyway. I dove into a bottle of Jack Daniels and didn't emerge for 20 years.

My boys no longer think I hung the moon and dipped it in sprinkles just for them.  But I would, if I could.

I came across one of my many sporadic journals that I kept before I started blogging here.  I thought writing down all those arguments about why I should stop drinking myself to death and keeping them to myself would help, but it didn't.
In one of them, written in 2009, I believe, there is a Mother's Day Entry.

I cried when I read it.

It must have been written early in the morning because I was still boosting myself up and making excuses about why my kids might not call me, how difficult it is to get hold of me, how they're boys and boys just don't think about those things...blah, blah, blah...But I wasn't in total denial, I knew that booze was the captain of the ship that was steering a course further and further from my kids.  I could see that I was totally losing sight of land and them.  They wouldn't be able to throw me a lifeline, even if they wanted to.

I don't remember if the oldest and youngest called me or not that Mother's Day.  I know the middle one did not because he did call me a few days later to apologize about not calling me, he had a good excuse, he'd been in jail.

That Mother's Day was the turning point for me.  I made a vow, that no matter what, by the next Mother's Day my relationship with my kids would be better, I would start doing the necessary legwork and healing that was required.

Was I sober by the next Mother's Day?  No.  But I'd started this blog and I was heading that way.

This is the message that I received on fb today from that middle child.  He doesn't have an excuse this year, he's in a much better place too.

Hey mom thank you for all the love that u have gave us as kids and u continue to give us as adults. And all the patience and understanding that you showed us.. no matter what direction life may take us you will always be our mother and i know im not alone when i say i take great pride in calling you my mom. I love you mom. Happy mothers day!

I called all of my boys yesterday to let them off the hook, I am still hard to get hold of, one more barrier I need to break down.  Am I where I want to be?  No, I've let myself chicken out of facing the hard things with my youngest, we're still skirting around the issues, keeping our coats buttoned tight. (Thank you to Amy, my friend, over on Soberbia for that image and a great book recommendation)  But I'm heading to his house in Texas to dig up some bones and rattle them as soon as I get back to the states in a few weeks.

Again,

Am I where I want to be?

Again,

No.

But I'm closer and that's a hell of a lot better than farther.

(BTW, Paul, if you read this, that middle son is the one that landed in my lap all of a sudden.)