I’ve always loved this photo of me and Tristan. It was taken on a beautiful summer’s day when my kids and I were all together, enjoying each other and our friends. Tristan balances on a cement beam set between a parking lot and brush-filled hillside. He walks carefully, confidently, teetering a bit, losing balance now and again, but he always corrects himself. He stays on the beam, eyes ahead….
Read MoreMother’s Day is a tough one. Dread begins seeping in to me weeks beforehand, building steadily. The thought of it drains my energy and knots my body with anxiety.
Last year, I spent the entire day before Mother’s Day in bed, sleeping, eating potato chips, and playing Candy Crush to still my heart and numb my mind. I wanted to go to bed and wake up to Monday morning, ready for work. A Monday work day was infinitely preferable to the terrible tomorrow ahead of me: my first Mother’s Day without my son, Tristan.
What the fuck was I to do with Mother’s Day now? …
Read MorePeople say a mother’s love is blind, but that’s not true. A mother’s love is like x-ray vision. It sees her child’s soul, the ultimate source of truth. The only truth worth seeing. The rest of the human condition is camouflage.
I’m not blind. I see Tristan’s deceptions and hear his lies. I know his desperation, and where that leads him. Sometimes more clearly than he does. But that’s not the truth of who my son is. That’s the camouflage of addiction...
Read MoreHappy New Year, Tristan! You missed so much in 2018, I’m not sure where to begin.
Jenn took her 1-year, and then 18-month, fob. I know you would have loved to be there for that. She got a new job and it’s shaping up to be a wonderful position with lots of opportunity. She moved in with Damyen, and they got engaged, and I’m so happy for them both. He’s a good egg…
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