Our Parents Talk

The Core of Our Being

January/February 2004

 

We began our Success Stories in the September/October MASH Magic newsletter with the story of John L. After it was printed, his parents, Robin and Peter, soon let us know they wanted to have their say, so we interviewed them.

 

When they realized their son John was using drugs, Robin and Peter L. say, “We thought drugs were what a lot of kids do, and we were anxious not to screw up his chances at college, not to get him kicked out of another school, so we gave him money because we were eager for him to get along well.

 

“We'd given him the best school, the richest experiences, the trip to Europe, so he could have unlimited opportunities. He never said no; he seemed to enjoy it. Then we found out he hadn't want to do all that. I wish he'd told us.” They both laugh. They have found an emotional high ground where they can look back with humor.

 

A partial cause of their blindness, they say was that John was not confrontational. “He never rebelled or yelled. We never had that from him. He was passive. The night we took John to detox, it was as if he died. He wasn't the John we had known. This alien life form was living among us. We knew he had been possessed before, trying to get out to get drugs, but this was the first time we accepted that he wasn't going to come back to the family, at least not the way he was before.”

 

In spite of this realization, the enormity of the task ahead took a while to sink in. They recall their naïveté about what it would take for John to recover. “We were going to England and John was going with us. The trip was paid for and we were wondering if, after two weeks of detox, we would take him to England with us after that and then send him to a new school. At the detox, they make you work the steps and you have to do the first step before you leave. John said he wouldn't go to England; he'd stay and work the step.” They began to get the message. John was one step ahead of them.

 

With great misgivings, they sent John to Serenity House—his choice. At the same time they also took a significant step not every family can take: They changed their entire system. They moved to Florida so John would never go back to Boston where he was well known in the drug scene. Peter had planned to retire in Florida anyway. A fortuitous job opening in Florida allowed them to make the move right then.

 

"You talk about miracles and putting things in God's hands. Anne and Bill! We want to say we're very grateful to them; they were our first higher power. They know what they're doing. Bill will come up with a viewpoint you've never thought of before and Anne has a big bag of tricks."

First the Serenity House program got John working. “John went through three jobs before he figured it out that you had to do certain things like show up,” his father recalls. Then he went to school, graduated from Avner Bush Academy, and was awarded a scholarship to go to Oglethorpe University. “We had no such expectation; that was nice,” says Robin.

 

More important, John's parents got the strength “to back out of his life. That was a big thing for us—to quit designing his life. We used to micromanage, trying to get all the details of his life, sort of an inquisition. So one of the first things we learned was to give him his life back.”

 

They remember a client who was leaving Serenity House against the staff's better judgment, heading for certain trouble. “When we saw these parents watch their son walk down the road with his suitcase and shake like a leaf but let him go, that gave us immeasurable strength.”

 

Robin and Peter needed that strength as John relapsed more than once. “It taught us a lesson: Don't get your hopes up.”

"Detachment is what we need,” Peter says. “If he starts using again, we're not sending money; we're not paying for another rehab. He knows where to go, what to do. He can pay himself.”

 

"If he relapses,” Robin agrees, “we're not going with him. John is smart; he doesn't need us to tell him what to do.”

 

"We have hopes,” Peter says. “We have substituted hope for expectations. That he will finish college and do something worthwhile and have a good life.”

 

They note that John is now a leader in his 12-Step group. Peter says, "The thing I'm proudest of is that he's helping others.”

 

Robin objects: “I'm off of pride. I'm happy and I recognize his work, but I get worried about saying proud. I was proud of him before and I lost that, so now I take him for what he is today. I don't get into that state of feeling pride. I see his achievement and it's his and not mine. His helping others is part of the program. When you don't do that, you relapse. So helping is the program. You don't have pride about it.”

 

Their sense of sharing a philosophy is keen, but they pleasantly differ on the small points. That philosophy was born at Serenity House and was nurtured by their involvement with Al-Anon.

 

Robin says, “The nurse at McLean said right away, you need Al-Anon. That was the first shifting of the focus off of John and on to ourselves. This has drawn us closer. In Al-Anon, often one parent goes and the other doesn't, but everything we've done about this, we've done together.”

"Our relationship has matured,” Peter says.

Robin elaborates, “We were both on a quest for a higher power. We have a better focus on where we're going. We've become much richer from our experience with addiction. We wouldn't wish this on anyone but you actually get to the point of being happier, than before, maybe not happier, but we have more meaning in our lives.”

 

"We've grown,” Peter says.

 

"There's a lot of stress that drives a lot of people apart. I think it has helped John that we grew together,” Robin says. “Before this we were just bouncing down the highway, meeting all the benchmarks along the American success story. Then we hit a brick wall. So we had to ask ourselves, what do you want to do with the rest of your life.

 

 

"I'm a lot less stressed out than I was before Al-Anon,” Peter says. "It's taking the place of organized religion… The people at Al-Anon are open and honest.”

 

Robin says, “It's a blessing; you would never think your child's disease is a blessing, but it's been an entry into a program, a richer, fuller life.”

 

Robin and Peter talk to new parents at Al-Anon workshops. “They don't want to go to Al-Anon. We remember we felt this way, too.” They laugh about their past. “We don't want to be so full of ourselves that we don't go back to where we were.”

 

"It's maturity,” Peter says. “We were very immature before.” They laugh again at the memory. “We don't proselytize. The serenity that people in Al-Anon have is its biggest draw. It's the core of our being.”