I got to see my son again. Saw his eyes bright and full of hope. Watched him smile with a heart full of love. Listened to him speak with faith and awareness. Observed him take responsibility and recount new insights. Laughed with ease and cherished each moment
I no longer saw hate. Fear was missing. Anger resolved. Today after months of only seeing a shell of what was, he came walking in with purpose. A renewed sense of belonging.
As he sat there recounting to us what his days are like now he did it with such enthusiasm I couldn’t help but be envious. He, although confined, is free. Not being consumed by addition or the lasting effects he glowed with excitement over the possibility of a new start. One not marked with how to score drugs to feel ok. To not have to hustle, manipulate, or lie just to get through the day is relief he is embracing.
I walked away with bittersweet emotions. That is what addiction does to the family. Even in the most sincere moments, you are ever so cautious. Optimistically-overjoyed over the vast improvement and the return of your baby. Still, fear sits with you side by side.
I want so badly for this nightmare to be over and yet I know to do that means him leaving the security (yes jail to parents of addicts is safety) that is being provided to us — the reprieve from worry. Peace of mind returns, heavy burdens lifted to see that smile even in jail it’s worth it.
Most of that visit, I would catch myself trying to memorize every minute, hang onto his laughter, and cling to his every word. It’s overwhelming and exhilarating at the same time.
There’s no judgment, no need to search for apologies or evidence of regret it’s just about reconnecting with your child. Reestablishing the bond that addiction tries so desperately to destroy.
Finally, I could breathe!
Hugging him goodbye, I prayed for strength not to let the tears I could feel welling up slip out. I watched him walk away and with one more wave, and I love you, and I was free to welcome each emotion — one after the other.
I was crying for the months of anguish and the last 60 minutes of promise. Feeling everything, I keep buried. I  realized this is a victory for me as much as him. He deserves this level of support, and I deserve to be a mom.
As hopeful as i am, I find myself a little angry over the circumstances that have to be for me to be able to get to have this time with him. Why does it take incarceration to get to see my son again? To see all the beautiful qualities I knew were not gone just hidden behind the devil. I feel cheated this is the tradeoff, but I remind myself I need to be grateful because we came so close to not having this. You’re never guaranteed another moment, one last hug. You may not hear “I Love you” again. It can be taken as quick as it is given and I would not trade the fight for this victory.
I got to see my son again!!!

To hang on we must let go!!