Here's an interesting reading... something that has helped me as I struggled first with learning detachment, and then trying to figure out how to do it with love!
"I tried so hard to learn detachment. Living with active alcoholism was confusing, and the idea of detachment seemed so vague. The alcoholic in my life was a restless sleeper who fell out of bed almost every night. Feeling it my duty, I would always help him back into bed. One night, after attending Al-anon meetings for awhile, I stepped over his body and got into bed, leaving him on the floor. Triumphantly, I went to my next meeting and told them, "I finally learned detachment!" "Well," they said, "that's not exactly what we meant. We meant detachment with love."
I left that meeting with a new understanding that I put into practice the very next time my loved one fell out of bed. When I found him on the floor, I still didn't help him into bed. But I did put a blanket over him before stepping over his body and going to bed myself. This, to me, was detachment with love."
and another favorite of mine....
Detachment. At first it may sound cold and rejecting, not loving at all. But I have come to believe that detachment is actually a wonderful gift: I am allowing my loved ones the privilege and opportunity of being themselves.
I do not wish to interfere with anyone's opportunities to discover the joy and self-confidence that can accompany personal acheivements. If I am constantly intervening to protect them from painful experiences, I also do them a great disservice. As Mark Twain said, "A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way."
I find it painful to watch another person suffer or head down a road I believe leads to pain. Many of my attempts to rescue others have been prompted by my desire to avoid this pain. Today I'm learning to experience my own fear, grief, and anguish. This helps me to be willing to trust the same growth process in others, because I know first-hand about the gifts it can bring.