REALITY BITES

I recently experienced something that no mother should ever have to go through. Last Friday, I went to pick my son up for work and found him unresponsive and not breathing. His feet and hands were blue, his lips were black and his face was a mottled purple. He had fallen in his bathroom and his head and neck were wedged against the wall with his head pushed forward on to his chest. At first look, I was sure he was dead but when I touched him, he was warm so I was hopeful. I called 911 and waited with the dispatcher on the phone for someone to arrive. I was fighting hysteria and running back and forth from the front door to the bathroom begging the dispatcher to make them get there sooner. After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably 6 minutes at the most, the dispatcher told me to go outside and flag down the police car that was just pulling into the apartment complex. This would prove to be the last time I was permitted to be in the apartment for awhile.

My son overdosed on heroin. He has suffered from heroin addiction for some time but has been clean for 3 years. During the 2 weeks preceding this event I knew something was wrong and had confronted him about it. Despite his protests and typical “you’re crazy” allegations, I knew. I have always been intuitive where my children are concerned and with my son, my intuition borders on paranormal. I have amazed my husband many times with the uncanny accuracy of my instincts and my son even more.

I cannot tell you the terror of those moments in time. The word terror doesn’t do them justice. All I can tell you is that in those moments, I saw my boy’s life from birth to that moment and I wanted to somehow capture it - them. I wanted to hold that baby and keep him safe in my arms. I wanted to hold his bicycle seat on his first two wheeler a little bit longer. I wanted to somehow capture the instant where everything went wrong and sent him down this sorrowful path. But I couldn’t – each lightning image, feeling, and word slipped away almost the moment they appeared. I feared he would slip away with them. I felt a large part of me would die as well.

And that’s life….the intangibles that we take so for granted. We spend most of our lives asleep – not living in the moment, savoring what is right now. I’m the queen of sleepwalking; of being so busy with what I have to do later, tomorrow, next week or next year. Thinking about every moment except the one I’m in. How much did I miss of my son’s living breathing moments being distracted and not present. Oh God.

My son has survived this onslaught from darkness. He’s alive and out of the hospital and my gratitude knows no bounds. And each moment that I spend with him now reminds me of how fragile this life can be, and how tenuous our hold on the present really is.

My son is pursuing recovery through an immediate available resource but my hope and prayer is that he will also seek counseling and strength through support of sponsors and groups that deal with addiction and on whom he can draw when reality bites.

And as for me; I have been reminded yet again how powerful our own self-deception can be and how easily we can let what is truly important slip away while we busy our mind with trivia and events that may never happen.

I cannot control my son or make his decisions for him, nor can I change my past or his.  But I can be here, awake and now in each moment; present to my family and friends that I love so much.  There is no time to waste and no guarantees.  What we have is the moment we are in.  It is time to awaken.

“Often it takes some calamity to make us live in the present. Then suddenly we wake up and see all the mistakes we have made.” ~Bill Watterson