Exactly two years ago I wrote these words in my journal:
Sarah is still clean.
It is a miracle.
Others are dying though. Dying everywhere at an unprecedented rate.
But we all die. I think about this at the beach and I cry with relief.
I think about these words. I don’t remember writing them.
Was I crying because my daughter was safe?
Or was I crying because death is our shared destiny
– and how can you fear something so natural?
I don’t know.
Today my daughter is safe after her relapse.
But today I do not feel relief.
Maybe it is the rain. Or the wind signaling the end of summer.
Or maybe it is something internal that I just can’t access.
It could be fear for the future,
or stress over the uncertainty.
It could be sadness for her struggle,
or anger at my being unable to fix it.
It is probably all of these things. And more. I know there is more.
One thing is certain though – today I will visit the beach.
Heroin Heroine 
I just read beautiful boy and thought of you and Sarah throughout the story. Can’t imagine your struggle or Sarah’s but i believe in hope and recovery. Sadly relapse is a part of recovery. And i definitley believe in Sarah’s strength and will power to recover.
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I am so glad you went to the beach. It is so soothing to do something that is simply for the beauty and serenity of it. Even a rainy day at the beach offers peace. As we struggle to get thru the one day at a times with our recovering loved ones,and live with what I can only describe for me as a strange form of ptsd, the best medicine is to not forget the beauty around us. For me, even watching the wrath of a storm at the beach is medicine.To see the utter chaos that nature can bring in a storm and then later see the beauty that comes after the storm has passed is a reminder that nothing is forever. We can no more control the actions of our recovering addicts than control the stormy seas. However, there is always hope. And amazing things can and do happen with hope.Enjoy the beach 🙂
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