hoosierdoc
Freed prisoner
This is a post from a physician i’ve worked with in the past. Her insight is incredible and it helped me be more compassionate to those who struggle with addiction, and more patient with those who don’t have it as good as I do.
——
My sister died yesterday. A tormented life that was largely measured in misfortune and tragedy mercifully came to a close in a relatively peaceful fashion. I’m grateful that I was able to make it home in time to say goodbye and tell her that she was loved. Even when she was in her darkest places, I still loved her.
My sister lied to me. She stole from me. She sent me and my husband on wild goose chases that cost us tens of thousands of dollars and immeasurable hours of our lives. But, I am the one who is indebted to her.
Why? First of all, she made what I think was the greatest decision in her life by letting me and Eric adopt Vanessa. Someday this girl will know what a beautiful sacrifice her biological mother made.
Secondly, my sister was a reminder of how far I have come. It helps me forgive myself for all of my shortcomings. More importantly, though, she was a reminder of where I could’ve gone. This helps me forgive others for their shortcomings.
Because, you see, no child dreams of someday growing up to be a drug addict. They don’t aspire to a life of squalor and low self-esteem. They don’t hope to have a series of disastrous relationships or to prostitute themselves or to betray the very few people who actually care about them. Getting to this place does not happen overnight.
Rhonda was a happy child once. Even in our disadvantaged childhood. She loved Strawberry Shortcake and My Little Pony and the Care Bears. But, she lived in an environment that lacked supervision and nurturing and consistency. I know some people tried but it was not sufficient for her. My brother and I are about 10 years older and we moved out as soon as we could. Our grandparents died when she was still very young so she was denied that positive influence. We were raised by a single mother who had her own struggles but certainly didn’t want this for her youngest child. And by the time it was clear that there was a problem, she was too limited to fix it.
Which makes me reflect on how I made it out. Knowing how different our lives are, one may think we are separated by an infinite abyss. The truth is, it may only be a handful of lucky breaks and good decisions that sent us on different directions in life. That teacher that encouraged me or gave me a second chance. That friend’s family that was always nice to me and made me feel welcome. That coach that didn’t sigh too loudly or complain when my parents were late to pick me up or flat out forgot. My grandparents. The aunts and uncles that tried to be encouraging and reminded me to study hard in school. If I knew the actual number of events that put me squarely on the right path, I might be terrified of how small it is.
Because an equally small number could have sent me down the same road as my sister.
I was with Rhonda a lot when she was trying to get clean. It was devastating to see the pain it put her through. And the shame and hopelessness. She would share with me visions she would have about the life she wanted. The dreams she would share were so ordinary that they were pitiful. Things like hanging out with other moms at a ballgame, sharing sodas and snacks while they watched their kids play. Or calling to say she was late coming home from work and ask if we want her to pick anything up. Things that were so simple for the rest of us that we don’t even notice it yet for her they were completely out of reach.
So, I guess I’m sharing this to say two things. One, I loved my sister. Even If I had to love her from a distance to protect myself… I still loved her. Second, don’t ever underestimate the impact you may have on an at-risk child. It may be twenty years before that kid realizes that you were pivotal in changing their life. Or, they may not ever realize that you were part of what saved them. But, don’t minimalize the impact of genuine caring.
Some people have reached out to see if there is anything they can do. If there is a memorial fund or charity, I will let you know. For now I just want to say thank you.
——
My sister died yesterday. A tormented life that was largely measured in misfortune and tragedy mercifully came to a close in a relatively peaceful fashion. I’m grateful that I was able to make it home in time to say goodbye and tell her that she was loved. Even when she was in her darkest places, I still loved her.
My sister lied to me. She stole from me. She sent me and my husband on wild goose chases that cost us tens of thousands of dollars and immeasurable hours of our lives. But, I am the one who is indebted to her.
Why? First of all, she made what I think was the greatest decision in her life by letting me and Eric adopt Vanessa. Someday this girl will know what a beautiful sacrifice her biological mother made.
Secondly, my sister was a reminder of how far I have come. It helps me forgive myself for all of my shortcomings. More importantly, though, she was a reminder of where I could’ve gone. This helps me forgive others for their shortcomings.
Because, you see, no child dreams of someday growing up to be a drug addict. They don’t aspire to a life of squalor and low self-esteem. They don’t hope to have a series of disastrous relationships or to prostitute themselves or to betray the very few people who actually care about them. Getting to this place does not happen overnight.
Rhonda was a happy child once. Even in our disadvantaged childhood. She loved Strawberry Shortcake and My Little Pony and the Care Bears. But, she lived in an environment that lacked supervision and nurturing and consistency. I know some people tried but it was not sufficient for her. My brother and I are about 10 years older and we moved out as soon as we could. Our grandparents died when she was still very young so she was denied that positive influence. We were raised by a single mother who had her own struggles but certainly didn’t want this for her youngest child. And by the time it was clear that there was a problem, she was too limited to fix it.
Which makes me reflect on how I made it out. Knowing how different our lives are, one may think we are separated by an infinite abyss. The truth is, it may only be a handful of lucky breaks and good decisions that sent us on different directions in life. That teacher that encouraged me or gave me a second chance. That friend’s family that was always nice to me and made me feel welcome. That coach that didn’t sigh too loudly or complain when my parents were late to pick me up or flat out forgot. My grandparents. The aunts and uncles that tried to be encouraging and reminded me to study hard in school. If I knew the actual number of events that put me squarely on the right path, I might be terrified of how small it is.
Because an equally small number could have sent me down the same road as my sister.
I was with Rhonda a lot when she was trying to get clean. It was devastating to see the pain it put her through. And the shame and hopelessness. She would share with me visions she would have about the life she wanted. The dreams she would share were so ordinary that they were pitiful. Things like hanging out with other moms at a ballgame, sharing sodas and snacks while they watched their kids play. Or calling to say she was late coming home from work and ask if we want her to pick anything up. Things that were so simple for the rest of us that we don’t even notice it yet for her they were completely out of reach.
So, I guess I’m sharing this to say two things. One, I loved my sister. Even If I had to love her from a distance to protect myself… I still loved her. Second, don’t ever underestimate the impact you may have on an at-risk child. It may be twenty years before that kid realizes that you were pivotal in changing their life. Or, they may not ever realize that you were part of what saved them. But, don’t minimalize the impact of genuine caring.
Some people have reached out to see if there is anything they can do. If there is a memorial fund or charity, I will let you know. For now I just want to say thank you.