Sometimes, Hope Is All You Have
When you become a mom, right away you make a promise to do everything possible to protect your children, to save them from any harm that might come to them. I have three children whom I love very much. I started out really thinking I was doing a good job. However, I failed one. You see, my oldest is a heroin addict. We have lost her to the dark world of drugs and there is nothing I can do about it, but I am not giving up on her.
I am not sure when my daughter first started using drugs, or maybe I did and just couldn’t bring myself to believe, that was what was going on. She knew better, came from a good, loving home. Drugs only affected “bad” people, or so we foolishly thought. Drugs are sneaky, preying on the weak, people with money, people without money. Drugs make promises of a freedom you wouldn’t get anywhere else. Drugs know no race, religion, gender, or age. All it knows, is it has a new victim. All family and friends can do is keep hope, and not give up. Oh, we fought at first. For years we sought help from doctors, counselors, therapist and psychiatrist. My daughter has been in rehab too many times to count, and has even spent years in and out of jail. We lost and the drugs won, but I finally realize the fight is not mine.
I spent many years trying to figure out what I had done wrong. I agonized many a night after everyone had gone to bed as to why I could not help her. I was failing as a mother and all I could do was sit back and watch it happen. But I never gave up hope. My daughter moved out when she was a senior in high school. She has been home and gone again after “drying out” many times since. It has been an up and down battle most of her young, adult life. She breaks my heart. She should be enjoying life, but instead I will get a phone call from a stranger telling me that they found her staggering down the streets. She is nothing but skin and bones. They wanted to help, but all they could do was get to her phone, found “mom” and called.
I believe that sometimes hope is all you have. But even if it’s all you have, hope can be so strong. My daughter is 29 and as of today we do not know where she is or who she is with. We have not seen her since this past July. My youngest keeps up with her on face book. She lets her know we love her and think of her often. This past Thanksgiving was the first without her, Christmas will probably be the same. She has a seven year old that my husband and I are raising and have been since he was born. He is such a blessing and his smile is a constant reminder of his mother, and the good times when she was healthier. My husband and I talk to him about her a lot, pray together for her more, but it’s the hope that is the strongest and what we hang onto the most. She knows we love her. She knows where are, and where we stand. She knows we are here waiting for her to come back to us, full of the hope that one day she will.