A Letter to my Mom
Adut Child of an Alcoholic
Thread Starter
Join Date: Jun 2011
Location: Durham, NC
Posts: 10
A Letter to my Mom
Hello Mom,
Thank you so much for your hospitality in hosting Alex and I and for remembering my allergies and cleaning the carpets, that meant a lot to me as I had forgotten that you had a dog! I am sorry I did not get to meet her but give her some hugs and pets for me. It was wonderful to see you, though I am very sorry about the circumstances under which that had to happen. I was very glad I got the chance to give my tribute to Grandad at the funeral, and I know we will all miss him sorely.
Losing a loved one is incredibly hard, and I can only imagine what it must be like for you losing a parent. The whole experience of the visit really got me thinking about a lot of things and I felt I needed to reach out to you. Mom, I love you with all of my heart forever, I want you to know that regardless of anything else. You gave me life, and you shaped the woman I have become today in innumerable ways. You made sacrifices so that I could live and grow. Being a parent truly is the hardest job on earth, and I don't know if I could do it myself. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all that you did for me, for everything I could not understand or appreciate fully as a child. I do understand and truly appreciate those things now.
I awoke at three am after a particularly vivid dream about us being together and knew I had to reach out to you. I have been wanting to for quite some time now but did not know the words to say or if the time was right. Somehow, my dream told me that now was the time. I know that things have not always been easy for us and that we have not always had the smoothest relationship, but that was never for lack of my love for you. Whether you know it or not, you helped me learn to see people as they are and not necessarily as they present themselves to the world. It is a priceless gift that has allowed me to help some people who were in crisis who did not show the rest of the world what they were dealing with. I have been that person myself and in trying to cope with new-found disability that is not readily apparent find myself there again. I know what it is to live with something that you experience in private moments and to wear a mask for the rest of the world.
Because of you, Mom, I have been able to help many other people, but it is time for me to reach out now to you. I know you as no one else does; as your only child, I grew up watching you struggle to cope with a failing marriage to a man who did not respond to your emotional needs or mine as I grew up. I saw your pain as well as your strength when you fought a long battle with alcoholism and addiction and finally triumphed when many lesser people would have failed. I saw you give your all when it would have been much easier to simply keep going as things were, despite the pain; to live in denial. I saw your childhood best friend abandon you at your darkest hour and your family of origin deny any part in your struggle, yet still you persevered and triumphed. I am so incredibly proud of you for that. You beat addiction and stayed sober for years, even in the face of your spouse having cancer and a subsequent painful divorce. No one can ever fully know what you have gone through, but I believe I have had a unique window into your inner struggles.
I hope that you are still reading this; I am writing this to you from the heart and crying as I do so. I know how hard it was for you when you were trying so hard to re-establish yourself as an independent woman and to re-enter the dating pool after the divorce. You may not remember this, but at one point you said to me that you were having a hard time because you had joined a number of singles groups and that their main activity was to go to Happy Hour and drink, and that you did not feel comfortable revealing to them that you were a recovering alcoholic. You are your own woman and your life is yours to live as you see fit; however, I was heartbroken to learn that you felt shame for what was in fact your greatest triumph. In this day and age particularly, being a sober alcoholic is not seen as a sign of weakness, it is seen by most as a badge of outstanding courage and is admired greatly. To those ignorant minority who might think otherwise, they are not worthy to be in your presence.
I was twenty when you began your new journey as a single woman; I am now turning 35. Fifteen years is a long time. You wear the mask of a happy and contented woman well, but as your daughter and gifted by you with clear sight into human nature, I have always seen through this. I know far more of what is in your heart than you would imagine. I cannot see everything, for you are extremely adept at hiding your true feelings and I confess to an inherent bias since you are my mother, but what I do see scares the hell out of me. Having just lost Grandaddy without even the benefit of saying goodbye or even knowing that he had had multiple strokes at all, I could not live with myself if I did not speak out now. Losing you would rip my heart to pieces, and just the thought makes me sick to my stomach. It is purely love and compassion that drove me to write this message to you now.
Mom, I know that you do not want to think of yourself in this way, but you are an alcoholic. As physicians and twelve-step programs alike say, once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic. My father was there for you, albeit imperfectly, when you first went through this struggle. You relapsed after the divorce, and no one would ever fault you for that. I have seen for myself the deep reserves of strength and courage that you posses, and I know how alone you must feel now. If you would allow it, I would love to be there for you now as I alone have a complete understanding of the nature and magnitude of the beast that you now face. You are not alone. I will do anything and everything in my power to be there at your side if you decide that you want to choose life, to choose wellness and recovery.
Despite your many efforts to cover your tracks, I have seen the severity of the addiction you are now facing. Moreover, I don't think that you are aware of how many others now see it too as the elephant in the room has become too big to hide. After you were intoxicated at the last family Thanksgiving dinner, Alan's children called Susan out of concern for your well-being, not knowing what to do and not wanting to confront you directly. The whole family has seen your constant drinking, your use of Styrofoam or ceramic non-transparent cups to hide the contents, your tremors from alcohol-induced encephalitis and/or DTs on a daily basis which indicate a health crisis from chronic, long-term alcohol poisoning. Your friends have watched as you passed out on your couch at your own parties time and again. Even Sarah is aware of your illness, having told me that you called her parents one day while intoxicated and said strange, seemingly out-of-character and hurtful things to them. I have had a number of these phone calls with you myself, making me afraid to call you. I never know who I will get when you answer the phone, and you may not know it but you have said a lot of very hurtful and/or bizarre things to me over the years on the phone as well. Despite our history, every time I see you, you try to entice me and whomever I bring with me to drink, as if my drinking with you would condone your own drinking. Your house is always filled with wine and alcohol of all kinds. You start your drinking very early and I have seen you consume very large bottles of wine in one sitting by yourself. You brought a case of these bottles with you when you visited me and Alex and remained acutely intoxicated for most of the visit. You take "to go" cups of alcohol with you on outings and you frequently drive under the influence. I remember one particularly chilling occasion when you took me with you to one of these Happy Hour gatherings and I did not drink; I had to take your keys as you were slurring your speech and could not stand up straight. On the way home, you remarked to me, "Some people can drive drunk." As a nurse and as one who got herself and her only daughter hospitalized after an accident while driving drunk, I hope you know that this is categorically false. It further chills me to know that this incident was not enough to stop you from drinking the first time.
I do not know exactly what it was that prompted you to finally admit that you had a problem then and to successfully stay sober for several years after the second attempt at rehabilitation. The rest of the family wanted to do an intervention but they felt they could not successfully do so without your partner Allen's support, and he said that he did not want to participate since he had never broached the subject with you personally. Other family members have all said to me that they did not feel comfortable speaking with you directly, that they didn't feel their words alone would have any impact. They hoped that I, as your daughter, could reach you since we have a connection that others don't have, and since I know you in some ways better than anyone else on this earth. Some believe that you will have to reach "rock bottom" before you would seek help, if even then. This thought scares the hell out of me honestly. You are in a very advanced stage of the disease of alcoholism, and are also deeply embedded in the accompanying denial. Please do not take this as blame or as criticism in any way. I have only love for you and want to help you if I can. I am terrified for you. I fear the next steps from here, if the current momentum is not stopped, are the loss of your job, the loss of your health, or death, either from chronic, long-term alcohol poisoning or the death of yourself and/or others on the road.
God forbid, should something happen to you, I would never forgive myself if I did not say something to you beforehand. I know this may all be in vain, but I pray that my words will reach you as they come straight from the heart from a place of love, compassion, and deep understanding. I am opening my heart to you in a way that I never have before because I love you and I want the best for you, and because you are my mother and I need you. Watching you self-destruct for years is ripping my heart into a million tiny pieces, and seeing you unable to conceal the shaking tremors that herald permanent physical damage is eviscerating. As a trained forensic death investigator, I have participated in the autopsies of people who have not been as deep into alcoholism as you are and the end-organ damage was devastating. The road you are on leads to destruction and death.
Please, please I beg you to not shut me out but to hear my words with an open mind and heart and let me help you. The woman inside you is strong, resilient, smart, funny, charismatic, and beautiful, inside and out. You may not always see yourself that way but that is the truth; I can see you for who you are. You are better than this illness, and with love and support from those around you you can beat this. I believe in you. I also know how hard it is and how easy it would be to just keep going as you are. I love you with all of my heart and soul, with every fiber of my being and I will do whatever it takes to help you. If you are willing, I would even move in with you to support you on a healing journey back to recovery. My ME doctors are in Charlotte and would be an easy drive from Taylors. Also, I know that the second hospital you stayed in was in the Southern Pines area, which is very close to me. Honestly, I would swim to Timbuktu to help you get better, to help you find your authentic and wonderful self. I would do anything to have my mother back, but I know that I can do nothing unless you make that decision yourself. However, neither can I stand by and simply watch you self-destruct. If you do not choose to admit your illness and seek help, I don't know how or if I will be able to remain a part of your life. I want more than anything to build a bridge of love and honesty between us, but that takes two to accomplish, and I don't even know if you want that. Hell, I don't even know if you are still reading this, or if you will reply. I have to try though, because you are my Mom and because I love you. I know that this letter is difficult to read; it has been difficult to write and a long time coming. Know that my writing you this letter, whether you see it now or not, is the greatest act of love that I can give you. I hesitated to write for the longest time because I did not know what to say, what were the "right" words. I know now that there are no "right" words, as long as they are sincere and come from the heart.
I hope that this letter finds you well and that you see and feel the love that prompted me to write this. I would be thrilled if you can respond at some point, but I understand if this is a bit hard for you to take in. I have spoken what is in my heart. Whatever happens from here, know that I will ALWAYS love you without condition or judgement. Take care of yourself, for you deserve only what is best in the world. I love you, Mom.
Yours Always,
Amy
Thank you so much for your hospitality in hosting Alex and I and for remembering my allergies and cleaning the carpets, that meant a lot to me as I had forgotten that you had a dog! I am sorry I did not get to meet her but give her some hugs and pets for me. It was wonderful to see you, though I am very sorry about the circumstances under which that had to happen. I was very glad I got the chance to give my tribute to Grandad at the funeral, and I know we will all miss him sorely.
Losing a loved one is incredibly hard, and I can only imagine what it must be like for you losing a parent. The whole experience of the visit really got me thinking about a lot of things and I felt I needed to reach out to you. Mom, I love you with all of my heart forever, I want you to know that regardless of anything else. You gave me life, and you shaped the woman I have become today in innumerable ways. You made sacrifices so that I could live and grow. Being a parent truly is the hardest job on earth, and I don't know if I could do it myself. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all that you did for me, for everything I could not understand or appreciate fully as a child. I do understand and truly appreciate those things now.
I awoke at three am after a particularly vivid dream about us being together and knew I had to reach out to you. I have been wanting to for quite some time now but did not know the words to say or if the time was right. Somehow, my dream told me that now was the time. I know that things have not always been easy for us and that we have not always had the smoothest relationship, but that was never for lack of my love for you. Whether you know it or not, you helped me learn to see people as they are and not necessarily as they present themselves to the world. It is a priceless gift that has allowed me to help some people who were in crisis who did not show the rest of the world what they were dealing with. I have been that person myself and in trying to cope with new-found disability that is not readily apparent find myself there again. I know what it is to live with something that you experience in private moments and to wear a mask for the rest of the world.
Because of you, Mom, I have been able to help many other people, but it is time for me to reach out now to you. I know you as no one else does; as your only child, I grew up watching you struggle to cope with a failing marriage to a man who did not respond to your emotional needs or mine as I grew up. I saw your pain as well as your strength when you fought a long battle with alcoholism and addiction and finally triumphed when many lesser people would have failed. I saw you give your all when it would have been much easier to simply keep going as things were, despite the pain; to live in denial. I saw your childhood best friend abandon you at your darkest hour and your family of origin deny any part in your struggle, yet still you persevered and triumphed. I am so incredibly proud of you for that. You beat addiction and stayed sober for years, even in the face of your spouse having cancer and a subsequent painful divorce. No one can ever fully know what you have gone through, but I believe I have had a unique window into your inner struggles.
I hope that you are still reading this; I am writing this to you from the heart and crying as I do so. I know how hard it was for you when you were trying so hard to re-establish yourself as an independent woman and to re-enter the dating pool after the divorce. You may not remember this, but at one point you said to me that you were having a hard time because you had joined a number of singles groups and that their main activity was to go to Happy Hour and drink, and that you did not feel comfortable revealing to them that you were a recovering alcoholic. You are your own woman and your life is yours to live as you see fit; however, I was heartbroken to learn that you felt shame for what was in fact your greatest triumph. In this day and age particularly, being a sober alcoholic is not seen as a sign of weakness, it is seen by most as a badge of outstanding courage and is admired greatly. To those ignorant minority who might think otherwise, they are not worthy to be in your presence.
I was twenty when you began your new journey as a single woman; I am now turning 35. Fifteen years is a long time. You wear the mask of a happy and contented woman well, but as your daughter and gifted by you with clear sight into human nature, I have always seen through this. I know far more of what is in your heart than you would imagine. I cannot see everything, for you are extremely adept at hiding your true feelings and I confess to an inherent bias since you are my mother, but what I do see scares the hell out of me. Having just lost Grandaddy without even the benefit of saying goodbye or even knowing that he had had multiple strokes at all, I could not live with myself if I did not speak out now. Losing you would rip my heart to pieces, and just the thought makes me sick to my stomach. It is purely love and compassion that drove me to write this message to you now.
Mom, I know that you do not want to think of yourself in this way, but you are an alcoholic. As physicians and twelve-step programs alike say, once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic. My father was there for you, albeit imperfectly, when you first went through this struggle. You relapsed after the divorce, and no one would ever fault you for that. I have seen for myself the deep reserves of strength and courage that you posses, and I know how alone you must feel now. If you would allow it, I would love to be there for you now as I alone have a complete understanding of the nature and magnitude of the beast that you now face. You are not alone. I will do anything and everything in my power to be there at your side if you decide that you want to choose life, to choose wellness and recovery.
Despite your many efforts to cover your tracks, I have seen the severity of the addiction you are now facing. Moreover, I don't think that you are aware of how many others now see it too as the elephant in the room has become too big to hide. After you were intoxicated at the last family Thanksgiving dinner, Alan's children called Susan out of concern for your well-being, not knowing what to do and not wanting to confront you directly. The whole family has seen your constant drinking, your use of Styrofoam or ceramic non-transparent cups to hide the contents, your tremors from alcohol-induced encephalitis and/or DTs on a daily basis which indicate a health crisis from chronic, long-term alcohol poisoning. Your friends have watched as you passed out on your couch at your own parties time and again. Even Sarah is aware of your illness, having told me that you called her parents one day while intoxicated and said strange, seemingly out-of-character and hurtful things to them. I have had a number of these phone calls with you myself, making me afraid to call you. I never know who I will get when you answer the phone, and you may not know it but you have said a lot of very hurtful and/or bizarre things to me over the years on the phone as well. Despite our history, every time I see you, you try to entice me and whomever I bring with me to drink, as if my drinking with you would condone your own drinking. Your house is always filled with wine and alcohol of all kinds. You start your drinking very early and I have seen you consume very large bottles of wine in one sitting by yourself. You brought a case of these bottles with you when you visited me and Alex and remained acutely intoxicated for most of the visit. You take "to go" cups of alcohol with you on outings and you frequently drive under the influence. I remember one particularly chilling occasion when you took me with you to one of these Happy Hour gatherings and I did not drink; I had to take your keys as you were slurring your speech and could not stand up straight. On the way home, you remarked to me, "Some people can drive drunk." As a nurse and as one who got herself and her only daughter hospitalized after an accident while driving drunk, I hope you know that this is categorically false. It further chills me to know that this incident was not enough to stop you from drinking the first time.
I do not know exactly what it was that prompted you to finally admit that you had a problem then and to successfully stay sober for several years after the second attempt at rehabilitation. The rest of the family wanted to do an intervention but they felt they could not successfully do so without your partner Allen's support, and he said that he did not want to participate since he had never broached the subject with you personally. Other family members have all said to me that they did not feel comfortable speaking with you directly, that they didn't feel their words alone would have any impact. They hoped that I, as your daughter, could reach you since we have a connection that others don't have, and since I know you in some ways better than anyone else on this earth. Some believe that you will have to reach "rock bottom" before you would seek help, if even then. This thought scares the hell out of me honestly. You are in a very advanced stage of the disease of alcoholism, and are also deeply embedded in the accompanying denial. Please do not take this as blame or as criticism in any way. I have only love for you and want to help you if I can. I am terrified for you. I fear the next steps from here, if the current momentum is not stopped, are the loss of your job, the loss of your health, or death, either from chronic, long-term alcohol poisoning or the death of yourself and/or others on the road.
God forbid, should something happen to you, I would never forgive myself if I did not say something to you beforehand. I know this may all be in vain, but I pray that my words will reach you as they come straight from the heart from a place of love, compassion, and deep understanding. I am opening my heart to you in a way that I never have before because I love you and I want the best for you, and because you are my mother and I need you. Watching you self-destruct for years is ripping my heart into a million tiny pieces, and seeing you unable to conceal the shaking tremors that herald permanent physical damage is eviscerating. As a trained forensic death investigator, I have participated in the autopsies of people who have not been as deep into alcoholism as you are and the end-organ damage was devastating. The road you are on leads to destruction and death.
Please, please I beg you to not shut me out but to hear my words with an open mind and heart and let me help you. The woman inside you is strong, resilient, smart, funny, charismatic, and beautiful, inside and out. You may not always see yourself that way but that is the truth; I can see you for who you are. You are better than this illness, and with love and support from those around you you can beat this. I believe in you. I also know how hard it is and how easy it would be to just keep going as you are. I love you with all of my heart and soul, with every fiber of my being and I will do whatever it takes to help you. If you are willing, I would even move in with you to support you on a healing journey back to recovery. My ME doctors are in Charlotte and would be an easy drive from Taylors. Also, I know that the second hospital you stayed in was in the Southern Pines area, which is very close to me. Honestly, I would swim to Timbuktu to help you get better, to help you find your authentic and wonderful self. I would do anything to have my mother back, but I know that I can do nothing unless you make that decision yourself. However, neither can I stand by and simply watch you self-destruct. If you do not choose to admit your illness and seek help, I don't know how or if I will be able to remain a part of your life. I want more than anything to build a bridge of love and honesty between us, but that takes two to accomplish, and I don't even know if you want that. Hell, I don't even know if you are still reading this, or if you will reply. I have to try though, because you are my Mom and because I love you. I know that this letter is difficult to read; it has been difficult to write and a long time coming. Know that my writing you this letter, whether you see it now or not, is the greatest act of love that I can give you. I hesitated to write for the longest time because I did not know what to say, what were the "right" words. I know now that there are no "right" words, as long as they are sincere and come from the heart.
I hope that this letter finds you well and that you see and feel the love that prompted me to write this. I would be thrilled if you can respond at some point, but I understand if this is a bit hard for you to take in. I have spoken what is in my heart. Whatever happens from here, know that I will ALWAYS love you without condition or judgement. Take care of yourself, for you deserve only what is best in the world. I love you, Mom.
Yours Always,
Amy
Member
Join Date: Aug 2009
Location: The Sunny South
Posts: 1,666
What a beautifully written letter. The words you have written are from your heart, pure and loving.
Another reminder to this recovering alcoholic that this disease is always lying in wait and not only takes the alcoholic hostage, but, their loved ones as well.
Thank you for sharing this...and for loving your mother.
Another reminder to this recovering alcoholic that this disease is always lying in wait and not only takes the alcoholic hostage, but, their loved ones as well.
Thank you for sharing this...and for loving your mother.
Member
Join Date: Jan 2011
Posts: 111
This letter brought me to tears too. This disease brings such pain to everyone involved and has such far reaching effects. You are a wonderful daughter and I pray that your Mom makes the right choice. I am also praying for you if she doesnt. Thank you for sharing your letter -
Member
Join Date: Apr 2010
Location: New York
Posts: 35,731
That was a beautiful letter Amy. Brought tears to my eyes. I wish you peace and happiness in your life. I agree with the others she is one lucky Mom. We should all be so lucky. You've poured your heart out and I could feel your pain and love. Whatever happens I would feel I've done my best.
:ghug3
Best Wishes To You!
:ghug3
Best Wishes To You!
Adut Child of an Alcoholic
Thread Starter
Join Date: Jun 2011
Location: Durham, NC
Posts: 10
Thank you all so much!
I just want to say thank you so much to all of you who have read and shown support on this post. It took me five hours to write that letter and I was terrified to send it, but it did give me a certain measure of peace having done so. I do feel I did the best I could. She did actually reply; I was pretty shocked as she has been very heavily invested in her denial. She said very simply (and in all caps as sometimes mothers do): "I HEAR YOU. I LOVE YOU. I AM WORKING ON THE PROBLEM." I don't know exactly what "working on the problem" means to her but her sister contacted me and said that she went to dinner with my Mom and she did not order her usual wine, and that she was quiet and pensive, which is very unusual for her. Perhaps I did reach her, though what effect that may have if any is yet to be seen. I pray that she will accept help in dealing with this, if not from me then from a caring, competent professional or a friend who knows and understands her illness and of course a higher power. She likes to think she can do these things on her own, but it never works out until she asks for help. Thank you all so much for the kind words, thoughts, and prayers. They are much needed and very much appreciated! I wish all of you the same love, compassion, and kindness in your own personal journeys to wholeness and recovery! Take care and be well.
Amy
Amy
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