Mary's Dream
As I visited with Mary, my wife's aunt, her eyes watery and red. She trembled as she talked. Her weary frame shook and her voice slightly cracked. She looked me dead in the eyes as she recounted a dream that will change the way you think about addiction.
As she began to recount her experience, I was imagining in the moment. She was there with her daughter Shavaun, my wife's cousin, best friend, sister. She didn't have the sick body she left with, she wasn't in a hospital gown, she was seemingly fine. Mary, delighted to see her daughter, who was taken at only 40 yrs. old, reached to embrace her only daughter. Just a moment of relief from grieving mother. If you have lost a child, you'll take anything.
Shavaun grew up like all the other kids. She had opportunities and circumstances like everyone else. Like so many, as Shavaun grew older what was just a fun past time of of drinking became a lifestyle of self medication. Shavaun knew it, the family knew it, everyone knew it. It wasn't a secret, she was an alcoholic. Nothing seemed to change that. Not tough love, not kind love, nothing seem to break this chain. Shavaun's body grew sicker and sicker, she lost her hair, she lost her ability to live.
Mary continued to recount the dream, overjoyed she leaped into Shavaun's arms and they hugged tightly. What a gift to a grief stricken parent. As Mary began to release, Shavaun wouldn't let go. Shavaun squeezed tighter, Mary grew uncomfortable. Shavaun squeezed tighter, Mary went from discomfort to suffocation. "Shavaun, "she shrieked," your hurting me". Shavaun's grip was crushing, her strength was overwhelming, and she seemed to squeeze even tighter. Mary wrestled for a moment as she panicked, the dream going from comforting to terrorizing in a moment. What started as a relief became a horror. Mary, confused and distraught as she tried to wiggle herself from the Shavauns grip, struggled to free herself to no avail. "Why are you doing this Shavaun?" Shavaun released her and said, "this is what it's like to be addicted."
Mary woke up startled and began to weep for her daughter. Everything hit her at once. All the times she had begged, yelled, and tried to convince Shavaun what she was doing was bad, never fully realizing the struggle Shavaun was in.
As she began to recount her experience, I was imagining in the moment. She was there with her daughter Shavaun, my wife's cousin, best friend, sister. She didn't have the sick body she left with, she wasn't in a hospital gown, she was seemingly fine. Mary, delighted to see her daughter, who was taken at only 40 yrs. old, reached to embrace her only daughter. Just a moment of relief from grieving mother. If you have lost a child, you'll take anything.
Shavaun grew up like all the other kids. She had opportunities and circumstances like everyone else. Like so many, as Shavaun grew older what was just a fun past time of of drinking became a lifestyle of self medication. Shavaun knew it, the family knew it, everyone knew it. It wasn't a secret, she was an alcoholic. Nothing seemed to change that. Not tough love, not kind love, nothing seem to break this chain. Shavaun's body grew sicker and sicker, she lost her hair, she lost her ability to live.
Mary continued to recount the dream, overjoyed she leaped into Shavaun's arms and they hugged tightly. What a gift to a grief stricken parent. As Mary began to release, Shavaun wouldn't let go. Shavaun squeezed tighter, Mary grew uncomfortable. Shavaun squeezed tighter, Mary went from discomfort to suffocation. "Shavaun, "she shrieked," your hurting me". Shavaun's grip was crushing, her strength was overwhelming, and she seemed to squeeze even tighter. Mary wrestled for a moment as she panicked, the dream going from comforting to terrorizing in a moment. What started as a relief became a horror. Mary, confused and distraught as she tried to wiggle herself from the Shavauns grip, struggled to free herself to no avail. "Why are you doing this Shavaun?" Shavaun released her and said, "this is what it's like to be addicted."
Mary woke up startled and began to weep for her daughter. Everything hit her at once. All the times she had begged, yelled, and tried to convince Shavaun what she was doing was bad, never fully realizing the struggle Shavaun was in.