Approaching Too Far Gone: An Addiction Memoir

In My Life

My sisters, dad, and I are at a loss for words now that my mom has been taken away. We sit in silence as we all feel relieved for the first time in a long time. It is odd to not have our mom in the house. It is odd to sit in our living room without being stressed out. We each try to start a conversation but fall short, so we decide to process the situation, each in our own way. Concerned about what is happening with his wife, my dad leaves to meet with the doctors who will be evaluating my mom at the hospital. Aubrey and Angie turn on the TV and hang out with each other. I know they're going to talk about Mom and eventually call Grandma Palma to tell her everything. I decide to do what I do best: sit alone with my thoughts until I can make sense of how I feel.

I tell my sisters I'll be back and take the car. I drive along the Delaware River until I find a cutout in a road I've never noticed before. A big rock overlooks the dark abyss of the flowing water. I sit down and take a deep breath, and for the first time in a long time, I feel completely at ease. A cool breeze sweeps over the river and gently kisses my face. The night is truly beautiful. Living in a highly populated area, light pollution typically eats up most of our stars, but not tonight. This night, they all come out to brighten the gloomy day.

The mysterious tranquility of the water soothes me. The sounds of flowing water lapping at the bank ease me into quiet reflection. I cautiously enter my own head knowing it is both my best friend and my worst enemy.

"How am I supposed to understand all of this?" I whisper aloud. With that question, my mind takes me far away.

***

"Are you okay, honey?" my mom politely asked.

I nodded 'yes' but the tears running down my face screamed otherwise. We stood in the crowded parking between the six little league fields, my teammates walking by celebrating our victory with their parents smiling on. I pulled my hat down to try and hide my eyes, knowing they betrayed my feelings of worthlessness.
"You know how your father gets when you play baseball. He wants you to be the best, but he tends to forget you're just a kid." Mom said, trying to comfort me.

"HE PULLED ME OUT OF THE ALL-STAR GAME AND SCREAMED AT ME SO EVERYONE COULD HEAR!" I yelled back through tears. I had held that anger in for the remainder of the game and through the 'talk' I had with my dad. Now I just had to let it out. "I NEVER WANT TO PLAY BASEBALL AGAIN!"

My mom walked up to me slowly and wrapped her arms around me. I was still shorter than her, but she knew it wouldn't be for much longer. She held onto me without any words until I settled down.

"I'm not trying to justify his actions," she said, "but your father acts like he does because he cares about you. A lot of people don't have someone like your dad that will be at every game, coach your team, and help you when you need it. He wants you to be a better baseball player than he was, but his passion gets the best of him at times. We all have our faults. Do you understand?"

I nodded my head yes, so she continued, "You are an excellent baseball player, and you're not going to quit. Instead, you will keep working with your dad and you will get better! Remember, can't is not in our vocabulary. And regardless of how you play, never forget that I am your number one fan."

Despite how bad I felt about the outcome of the game, I smiled. That bit of encouragement did not stop me from having bad games, nor did it stop my dad from letting his 'passion' get the best of him as he screamed at my smallest mistakes. But it did motivate me. No matter how tough the competition or practice became, I never considered quitting again.

When I reached my late teens and early twenties, my dad became my sage. His advice helped me immensely, and we developed a strong friendship on top of our typical father/son relationship. But growing up, I was a momma's boy, and the loving way in which my mom helped me through any situation was irreplaceable.