Beautiful Heartbreak

Hilary Weeks singing "Beautiful Heartbreak."

The title seems likes an oxymoron. How could those two words go together.

What a powerful lesson...to turn sorrows into joys.

My sign would say "Lost my son to drugs. For now."

Quitting is Not an Option

Lesson: As difficult as it is to parent a rebellious teen or young adult, our parental stewardship remains.

Many years ago, I approached a friend to console her after the untimely passing of her son. I wanted to offer something...some words of condolence or encouragement. Cancer is no respecter of persons. So tragic! He was her only son and I felt deep sorrow for her loss. I approached her and expressed my sorrow, and her reply will stay with me forever. She said, "There are worse things than death, and you're living it." My life at that time was a living nightmare for my own son. She was sweet to think of me instead of her own needs.

I have often wanted to quit. The scriptures talk about how people used to "rend their clothes" as a sign of simply being done with something or someone.

Judges 11:35

35 And it came to pass, when he saw her, that he rent his clothes, and said, Alas, my daughter! thou hast brought me very low, and thou art one of them that trouble me: 

I have felt as this father, and wondered if I were justified in my actions. As I searched the scriptures, prayed, and sought direction in the Lord's house, the answer has come slowly and clearly. I am never done. This phrase is repeated throughout scripture:

Isaiah 9:17

For all this his anger is not turned away, but his hand is stretched out still. 

In the Book of Mormon, there was a prophet named Jacob who quotes the prophet Zenos who gave us an allegory. It is called The Allegory of the Olive Tree. It is difficult for me to understand, but it describes the scattering and gathering of the house of Israel. As I read this (very long) Chapter 5, recently, I was struck with another common phrase.

"watch the tree, and nourish it,"

"this long time have I nourished it,"

"I have nourished it this long time,"

"I have nourished this tree like unto the others."

"Let us prune it, and dig about it, and nourish it a little longer, that perhaps is may bring forth good fruit unto thee,"

"And it came to pass that the Lord of the vineyard said unto his servant: The tree profiteth me nothing, and the roots thereof profit me nothing so long as it shall bring forth evil fruit. Nevertheless, I know that the roots are good,"

"The Lord of the vineyard wept, and said unto the servant: 'What could I have done more for my vineyard?"

"But, behold, the servant said unto the Lord of the vineyard: Spare it a little longer."

"And the Lord said: Yea, I will spare it a little longer, for it grieveth me that I should lose the trees of my vineyard."

"I may yet have glory in the fruit of my vineyard."

"And blessed art thou; for because ye have been diligent in laboring with me in my vineyard, and have kept my commandments, ...behold ye shall have joy with me."

The Lord never gives up on us, ever. And we cannot ever give up on our wayward child. It would be so much easier. It would protect us from pain. But it is not His way, nor can it be our way.

Bad News

Lesson: You never get used to hearing bad news. As the years roll on, I am thankful I have been able to move on and not feel debilitated by sadness over my son's choices. It helps that he doesn't live at home and I don't see the choices first hand. I mostly don't even know the choices he is making, and I'm sure that's best.

For years, every time the phone rang I feared bad news, simply because that's how a lot of it came. I'm glad that has faded and I no longer fear the phone as I once did. But, I will never forget that feeling. I also do not cry as much as I once did. This day was different...the phone rang again, and I cried again. A lot.

This was a post I made on our family's blog just after Father's Day this year.

The burden is heavy today.

Mark called his dad last night for Father's Day. And his dad told him about a phone call they had received this week.  Apparently, a woman was walking her dog in some small town in Montana. As they were walking, she heard another dog barking incessantly, so she went to investigate. There she found a man, lying unconscious with his dog tied around his waist. The dog was barking non-stop, I imagine to alert someone (like a Lassie story) or maybe the dog was simply hungry. Anyway, the woman called an ambulance and the man was taken to the hospital. He was passed out from intoxication. After he was released from the hospital, she paid for him to stay a night in a hotel. The man is my son, Dallin. I don't know the woman.

I have been flooded with emotion since I heard this story. And I can't get the image out of my mind of him lying on the ground with his dog tied to him. Why is Dallin so dumb? I'm angry and ashamed at him. This good woman had to give so much, for which I am grateful, because my son is an irresponsible person. Mark says he is an alcoholic. The burden is so heavy for me to carry today. Most days it isn't. Most days I realize that Dallin is free to make his own choices and he has to own those choices. Most days I can separate my life from his, knowing that someday, because of the Atonement, it will all be made right. But that is not how I feel today. I feel pain and sadness in every part of my body. I cried myself to sleep last night, praying that sleep would come fast because that is the only escape from the sadness. Dallin is so kind and so handsome and he has such promise. Why won't he do something, anything positive with his life? I don't know the answer and it's extremely frustrating to me, almost more than I can bear at times.

This morning I was reminded of a scripture: "I pray continually for them by day, and mine eyes water my pillow by night, because of them; and I cry unto my God in faith, and I know that he will hear my cry. And I know that the Lord God will consecrate my prayers for the gain of my people." (2 Nephi 33:3-4) I KNOW this to be true and it carries me through every day. But sometimes the burden is just super heavy to carry. Today is one of those days.

Every time I have these days, my mind goes back to when Dallin was little. I think of reading books to him for hours and hours. I think of him coloring at the kitchen table with Caitlin. I think of swinging on swings at the park. And I wonder how did we ever get from there to here. Those days held such promise. And today holds such pain.

But, I will go on, like I always do. There is much to be grateful for in my life.

How Do You Know?

Lesson: You don't know. But there behaviors to watch for. Mother's intuition cannot be overstated, as well. If you know of some inappropriate things your child is doing, I can absolutely guarantee it's only the tip of the ice berg.

Some things to look for:
-mood swings
-different friends he's highly protective of
-school performance dropping
-change in physical health - is he more/less hungry, etc.
-evidence - check the medicine cabinet
-attitude

I can often tell just by looking at my children if things are alright or not. Compare these pictures. And focus on the countenance (definition: appearance, especially the look or expression of the face). You can tell a lot.

A week before sent to the program.

 

 Just before graduating from a residential treatment program.

10 months ago.

I wonder if other people notice this about their children.

A wise family member offered this: "I can also tell a lot by how much time a child will spend with [his/her mom or me].  If they always hang with friends and never at our  home, they are probably involved in things we would not approve of.  If they are angry with us for no good reason, it's probably because they are uncomfortable (is that the right word?) being around us because of their choices, actions and behavior."

Blame

Lesson: Most parents try their very best. Our very best efforts ARE enough. In this life, pain is a given; suffering is optional. Think about that for a minute. We cannot carry our children's choices around with us as painful baggage.

I have often had people compliment me on my children, that is, some of my children. Even the tough one, they have complimented because he has a heart of gold. I often don't feel worthy of compliments. I have often wondered where I went wrong to have a son go so far off the path we had hoped for him.

I read a book (in a few hours, from cover to cover) written by a friend. It is called "Principles of Love: How to Successfully Parent Your Adult Children" by Garth A. Hanson, and Steve D. Hanson. While the title doesn't seem to apply directly to my rebellious teen (who is now an adult), every principle in this book helped me.  (It is out of print, but it can be purchased on Amazon through the used book thing.)

Anyway, in the first chapter of the book, it addresses my thoughts about receiving compliments for my children. If you give me credit for what some of my children are doing, you have to give me the blame for what my son is doing. And I don't really want either one.

As I've mentioned in earlier posts, I know each one of us has a purpose here one earth. We all have things to learn so we can prepare to return to God and become more like Him. There is a specific plan for me, a specific plan for my husband, and each of my children. We each have experiences and make choices and through these we learn. I have made parenting choices, and while I often rethink them and wonder if there is more I could've done or more I can do now, I realize I only have control over me. Further, I will only answer to God for my choices, not my children's choices. That will be their job.

This has been a liberating idea. When my son was in his two programs, we were fortunate enough to go through a series of seminars. This idea of agency and being accountable was repeated throughout all of our learning. It is difficult, at times, to apply this to parenthood because we want someone or something to blame for things not turning out the way we'd hoped. I can tell you, from experience, that does no good at all.

The Effects on Our Marriage by T

I married a very good man. I didn't know how good when I married him. Adversity definitely takes a toll on a marriage. And we don't choose the challenges we get. We only hope we're strong enough to handle them when they come. But when we faced the unthinkable - that of losing a child to drugs - neither of us really knew what to do.

My husband had a lot of stress at work during this time, but couldn't be productive at all for worry about what was going on at home. I was working part time and doing all the things to keep our household running, but my mind was always working on preparing for what was coming next. Would my son be coming home high? Would he keep his word and be home on time? If he didn't come home, do we go get him? Will he fail school? Who was he hanging out with? What effect was this whole thing having on our other children? How could I keep my home from being overrun with contention?

I had always invested a lot of time in my relationship with my son. We would talk for hours, just like I did with my dad when I was growing up. When our son really started making rebellious choices, I actually thought if I invested more time, I could influence change. I felt it was like the parable of the lost sheep, and I was leaving the ninety and nine to save the one. I learned this parable didn't necessarily apply in our case. Because while leaving the ninety and nine, I left my husband and three other children to fend for themselves. I seriously think I gave 90% of my physical, emotional and spiritual energy to my son, with 10% left over for my husband and other children.

I felt my husband and I should talk more to our son and try to convince him there was a better way. My husband thought our son already knew what was right and there needed to be consequences for his actions. I am describing our relationship in the extreme, but our different parenting viewpoints were polarizing to our marriage. Because of my husband's love for me, he let me do what I felt I needed to do. Consequently, he and I grew apart. I was pleading with the Lord for help, for understanding. I gleaned little glimpses of understanding while reading my scriptures, pondering while driving in the car, and many other times. But, we weren't together in facing this challenge. And this was no time to be going at it alone.

It wasn't until my son was out of the house at a treatment program that I really began to understand the toll it was taking on my marriage. I understood that my marriage should be paramount to any other relationship but I didn't know how to do that, while still investing the time I felt was needed for my son. I felt broken and our marriage felt wounded. I'm grateful my husband and I had a close relationship before this trial began, and we needed to get back to that if we were going to help our family heal.

Lessons learned: Heavenly Father knew we were going to face this trial long before it happened. He knew this trial was an invitation to come to know Him better. It was a chance for us to learn to rely on Jesus Christ. This is not just a "feel good" belief, but a real, actual doctrine on which to hang all our hopes. If we are to achieve a oneness in marriage, like the Father has with the Son, we had to look to each other and look to God. This was difficult because for so long I had relied on me. I would ask my husband for his counsel, but I really only wanted him to confirm my feelings. I needed to humble myself (even more than this trial already had). I finally began to listen to him (he always listened to me) and we began to work together. It was a trying time for our marriage, but I would say we are definitely stronger because of it.

February 2003 The Beginning by T

We had just finished attending a Saturday evening church meeting, called Stake Conference. I had been one of the speakers and I was very glad to have that behind me. While walking out of the building, a mother of a teenage daughter who knew my son came up to speak to me and my husband. I imagine it was difficult for her to broach the subject and I don't really remember how she started the conversation but she said something like, "Do you know your son is using drugs?" I had to take a double take because I thought I couldn't have heard her correctly. This was a woman I knew, but I didn't know well and in my mind I was quickly processing all my possible responses. I think I asked her to repeat herself and afterward I was a little incredulous. I assured her that he was a little rough around the edges but he would never use drugs. We were both trying to simply be friendly, after all we hadn't ever really spoken at length, although she was someone of whom I thought highly. I'm sure she was just thinking of me and trying to be helpful, but I was offended. And in serious denial. After I repeated that I was pretty certain he wouldn't use drugs, she responded, "I hope not, but you should check his backpack."


I was numb as we drove home, and my mind was racing. I thought, "No way! This can't be true! We would know. He's not that dumb. Not my son. He would never hurt us like that," And many other thoughts of denial. This was not happening. We arrived home and confronted him. Sure enough, there was a bottle in his back pack and in the bottle were the foam from ear buds and in the foam were a couple of pills. He said he was "holding them for a friend." Uh huh. 


Monday morning I was on the phone with our pediatrician. He had been our doctor since the kids were babies. I told him what the bottle said (I don't remember now) and what the pills looked like. He said he had to call a colleague and he would call me back. The results were undetermined. He said his colleague thought it was a form of ibuprofen or something. I thought, at least it wasn't speed or something more serious, because that was the most serious drug I knew.


Regardless, out nightmare had begun.


Lessons - I had always been taught, and the truth of it burns deep in my heart, that "In the pre-mortal realm, spirit sons and daughters knew and worshiped God as their Eternal Father and accepted His plan by which His children could obtain a physical body and gain earthly experience to progress toward perfection and ultimately realize his or her divine destiny as an heir of eternal life." Simply put, we lived with God before we came to earth, and this earth life is for us to gain experience and grow to prepare to return to Him. That means that my son will have experiences that will invite him to grow and he'll make choices that cause him to grow. And, as we watch the painful choices unfold, we, too, are invited to learn and grow. This learning has been by far the most painful I have ever had. Based on my knowledge of our purpose here on earth, I finally came to to know I could, in fact, rely on my Savior. In the coming months and years, I found great comfort in the Savior's words in Matthew 11, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls."

October 2004 By T

Our son had been in the residential treatment program for one whole year. We had attended many seminars to learn about ourselves and the choices in our lives. What a blessing those seminars were! Our family had had time to heal from the chaos of our previous home life. Laughter had returned. We added a new baby to our family. Our home had a spirit and a peace about it that we didn't think possible.

We wanted to share all of this with our son and were invited to visit him in his program. Here are some photos from that first visit as a family.

We surprised him in his group.

First hug.

 Meeting his new little brother.

 Getting to know each other.

 Do we have to say goodbye?

 We had to leave. He needed to finish what he started.

Lesson: "The family is central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children." We are a family and we know our importance to God. We also know each of us has an eternal destiny. That path looks different for every person and every family. We also know we are here to "gain earthly experience to progress toward perfection and ultimately realize [our] destiny as an heir of eternal life." The time in the program was a happy time because we were free from the stress and chaos of having rebellion in our home. And we were all learning so much. Many years have passed since these pictures were taken. Yet, we know we are a family and we matter to God.

August 2006 By T

Orange County Jail. The words made me cringe just to think them. I was the one who felt like a criminal as I approached the officer behind the glass to show my I.D. to be admitted. After waiting for what seemed hours, I was invited to pass through the metal detector and walk down the long hallway to the visiting area. The long hallway was white, ironically, and as I walked, I felt the evil of that place pressing on my heart. There was nothing "white" about this place; it was as dark as I had ever felt.


I was assigned a booth, I guess I would call it. It wasn't enclosed. It was a seat at a counter. Each booth was separated by a piece of wood, a small wall to separate me from the next visitor. On the wall was a phone handset, in front of me was a glass window, and opposite my wall with a phone, was another wall with a phone. As I sat there for a long time, I was completely overcome with emotion. In my mind I replayed hundreds of scenes of his life, my life, our family's life. I saw us all at the park, me swinging him when he was three, or him swinging his sister when he was a little older. I flashed to times sitting on the couch while I was feeding a baby and reading to him. For hours. I could see him helping his dad mow the lawn. I could see the huge messes he would make with his toys all over his room (and my room, and the bathroom, and the family room). These were the happy memories, but at this very moment, the memories were painful. More pain than I had ever felt before. How did we get here?


The wait, sitting there, was really long. I don't know how long, but long. Then, men (when did my boy become a man?) began filing in behind the windows. They were all dressed in orange jumpsuits. When he sat down and saw me, he, too, started to cry. He motioned for his dad to pick up the phone. And he asked, (I really believe out of love for me), "Dad, why did you bring Mom here?"


I'm crying as I relive this in writing. I don't know if I've ever written this down before. I'll have to check my journal. Some things I've been through were just too painful to write. I really should remember. Not the pain, but the lessons. That's what I hope this blog will be about. Lessons in no particular order.


Lesson 1: A jail is somewhere I never want to go again (even though I think I've been twice or three times now). However, that is beside the point. Important lesson - My life does not look like I had hoped. And that's okay. His choices, while painful to me, can be separate from mine. This lesson I will probably visit many times on this blog because I have had to learn it over and over again.

I Am All About Family

This is our little family in December 2010. My family means everything to me. It is what I live for, what I work for, what I pray for. It is why I do what I do every day. If I ever have found myself low enough to not care about myself, they are the reason I keep going.


I am in a college class about strengthening families. I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and in this class we are studying a document called The Family: A Proclamation to the World. I have received a tremendous amount of comfort in studying the scriptures, as well as praying for inspiration to help me through the tumultuous parts of raising my family. I take comfort in

Proverbs 22:6, "Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it." 

I also have read the Savior's parable of the prodigal son in Luke Chapter 15, many, many times.

11 And he said, A certain man had two sons:

 12 And the younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living.

 13 And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living.

 14 And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want.

 17 And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father’s have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger!

The parable has a happy ending, in that the Prodigal returns! People who have gone through this have said, "He will only change once he hits bottom." Well, we continue to wait for him to find that bottom. In the words of the parable, I am waiting for him "to come unto himself." When he becomes truly humble, as the son in the parable, he will want something different for himself.


There have been and continue to be many joys in our life as a couple and a family. Through all the sorrows and joys there have been many lessons. I hope you will find some comfort in the lessons  shared on this blog. I invite you to share lessons you've learned, as well.