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How Long Will It Last This Time?

“So, it’s been six weeks, Mom. How long do you suppose it’s going to last this time?” Stunned, I looked deep into the eyes of my ten-year-old son. I saw skepticism, pain and disgust over my recent recovery from alcoholism. He had heard it all before when I had assured him numerous times that I would stop getting drunk.

There was the night I came home in my dented car at 3:00 A.M. with a blackened eye to find him anxiously awaiting me in the driveway. He rushed over to the crumpled fender, helped me stumble out and gasped, “I asked you not to go out! I knew something bad would happen!”

There was the night of the Cub Scout ceremony where all the other members had their merit badges appropriately sewn on their uniforms while his were shakily pinned on at the last minute by my hungover hands. He sat in his chair when his name was called, too ashamed to stand up front.

There were the many different schools where he had to make all new friends, as I outran bill collectors and drank up the rent monies. He would come home crying that the kids called him “poor boy” although his father sent child support and I earned a good wage.

Hurt by his outburst, feeling shame and guilt, I considered the toxic lifestyle I had dragged him into. I was humbled and helped as I stared back into his despondent eyes.

I had no right to be trusted this time, either. I was irresponsible. God has dealt with my wounded spirit and me six weeks earlier. I had not touched a drop of alcohol, not even mouthwash. My drunken days were over, but how could I, a loser and a liar so often, convince this wonderful young boy? How could I possibly convey my rejuvenated hope to this loving, innocent child?

“Oh, it’s going to last!” I emphasized. With newfound certainty I replied, “This time, it’s going to last!”

He hugged me tightly and whispered “We’ll see…”

This year, I have the privilege of looking that same, trusting son in the eye as I have ever since that night of reckoning. I have earned credibility. I am responsible. I will reassure him and he will again hug me tightly!

This time, I will say “It’s been twenty years, Son! It’s going to last!”

Janell H. © 2004 Chicken Soup for the Soul Enterprises, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Used with permission.

CONTENT DISCLAIMER

The Brent Shapiro Foundation for Drug Awareness does exercises limited editorial control over the information you may find on FRONTLINE STORIES web pages. Opinions expressed on FRONTLINE STORIES web pages do not necessarily represent the official views of The Brent Shapiro Foundation for Drug Awareness.

 

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