The past month has been the most difficult of my life. The loss of my daughter has been overwhelming for me. I’ m unable to focus on my writing or mostly everything else. While I’ve worked on this website and started a new one, I’ve made the decision tonight that I’m going to write a support book for families who are experiencing what mine did for so many years. Before I retired from social work, I always felt that if I could help one child and family a year, I would be successful. (I can proudly say that I did accomplish that). And now, it’s time to go back to that–I want to save at least one child from destroying their life because of drugs. And I want to prevent the heart ache of that child’s family. Do I think it will be easy? Probably not–but what in life that’s worthwhile is easy? “Envelopes of Hope” was inspired by Sara when she was in rehab. She wrote to me and thanked me for not giving up on her. And I still haven’t given up on her. I don’t know her cause of death yet–they are waiting for the toxicology reports to come back. Whether or not she relapsed four weeks ago doesn’t matter because those drugs killed her a long time ago. I hope that you’ll accompany me on my new journey–I’ll keep you up-to-date as I go along.
There comes a time in life when we re-evaluate who we are, where we came from, and the direction that we are going in. Sometimes this means a change in our religious practices, our values, our principles. My aunt’s death in 1960 effected the entire family system because that’s what happens when the system changes. My grandmother became more religious because that’s what comforted her. She no longer had her hair done on the Sabbath or ate out. Just like other families that go through the tragedy of losing someone, my system has changed. Although each day seems to be more difficult for me in handling my daughter’s death, I find myself wanting to be more observant in my religion. Perhaps it is not just her loss, but the fact that her loss has brought me to the realization that I am “supposed” to be more observant. Like my grandmother, the thought is bringing comfort to me. I also am going to get back into my writing because it is something that is important to me. It has been almost a month since she died and the only words that I have written are on this blog and the new one that I created. And I found a new way to communicate with Sara. After realizing that I wouldn’t be able to speak to her any more (which we did several times a day), I write to her every night. While some may think that strange, it has brought me comfort because she is with me while I am typing my letter. That is the path that I am on right now and it may change. But I don’t think so–because, for now, I am where I want to be.
When I started this website/blog, my goal was to have a following for my writing journey. I’ve tried to make my posts both informative and enjoyable at the same time. My following has never increased as much as I’d hoped and that’s been a struggle for me. While I’m tech savvy to a point, I still lack in the knowledge of how to make it grow. I’m positive it’s due to the fact that I didn’t grow up with all of this technology. But as often happens in life, my journey has taken a different course in the past three weeks. One of my biggest supporters was my daughter and I just can’t seem to focus since she left. I’m working on a blog to support other families who have gone through, and are going through, what mine is because of substance abuse. And I haven’t given up on my writing–I love writing. But right now I just can’t put my thoughts on paper. But I will–because that’s my passion and my therapy. When one of my books received a negative review, Sara told me not to let it bother me, that I’m a good writer. And that’s what she would say now–“don’t stop writing, Mom. You’re good.” And I won’t stop–not for myself and not for Sara.