Best of times, worst of times…

This year we flew back to NY on July 23rd. 34 years to the day that my mother entered her final trip to rehab, the one that finally stuck. I will never forget that day. I am not going to go too deeply into the circumstances, because I believe it would hurt my mother. She suffered so much regret about not being sober for the first 10 years of my life. Now as a mother I truly understand her pain. She was so deeply under the thumb of her addiction, which I also truly understand. As a child it is hard not to think it is your fault, but there were bigger forces at work there. Mom, I am so proud of that fact that you pulled yourself out of such a deep and painful hole, I feel so lucky for the many years we got to spend together with you sober. I feel blessed that you survived on that day 34 years ago, I truly believe it was divine intervention. I got to tell her this many times when she was alive, but it bears repeating. I have no regrets, I would not be the person I am today without going through the years of adversity. And even in your darkest moments, I know you loved me.

I am posting a photo below that is hard for me to look at sometimes, it was taken at the nadir of my mother's addiction, by her best friend Francis Cox. We are both suffering in this photo, and I think only Francis could have captured this moment that clearly. Mom is lost, and I am trying to reach her.

In direct contrast, the photo below was taken (also by Frances) about a year or so into my mothers sobriety. Sadly, there is damage to this photo, but I think the eyes say it all.