Mom, I know I’ve let you down. Over, and over again I’ve
made a mess of my life and brought both of us shame. There were years where you
were unable to explain my whereabouts to family and friends, and times where
you yourself didn’t know where I was. I’ve put you through more pain and distress
than I care to recall. I’ve not been a son to you for many years, and I have
lost your trust far too many times. All these things are true and I think on
them frequently.
But for some reason, you still love me. It’s an
unconditional love that I’ve felt nowhere else. Even recently when we didn’t
see eye to eye when we lived together, there was never any doubt that you loved
me. I wish I could say that I promise you that I will never be lead astray
again by the temptation and allure of alcohol and the world of drugs, but I
cannot because it’s the nature of the disease that I am always at risk of going
back. What I can say is that once again, today I made a small step in my
progress toward restoring sanity in my life. And tomorrow, when we go out on
our secret trip to an unknown location for Mother’s Day lunch, I will be
repairing even more of the damage I have caused. I will be repairing the bond
that had been broken for so long as a result of my actions. I have nobody to
blame but myself, which leaves only me to clean up the mess. And so far, I
think it’s working.
It’s hard work, searching inside myself to try to figure out
what’s been broken for so long. But through writing this blog, attending A.A.
meetings, and working with a sponsor, I’m starting to change my life around. I
no longer do these things to avoid going back to prison, I do them because I
want to be out here living life and being with my family as much as I can.
Although you had help from some family members raising me
for a small portion of my childhood, I know that you were solely responsible
for bringing me up and I know that you not only did the best you could without
a father present, you truly were an amazing Mother, I just didn’t see it until
later in life.
I see it now, and I won’t forget it. You imparted upon me
how to be a good, loving person, and it took me about 20 years longer than it
should have to recognize that. The things you showed me are the things I strive
to emulate now because I know that they are righteous, moral, and honorable.
Mom, I love you. It doesn’t get any more honest than that.
You were instrumental in keeping me sane throughout my prison term. You wrote
to me, sent me money, and answered my calls. Not everybody is as lucky as I was
in there. Not everybody has a person that loves them no matter what, and I
consider myself fortunate. You moved just to accommodate me living with you
when I got out, and I am so grateful for that. I may not have acted like it
when I lived there, but that was because I was ashamed of myself, and I shut
myself in my room, and my own little world where I felt comfortable. I’m
breaking out of that shell slowly, but surely, and I won’t forget that it’s
because of you that I’m even out here in the first place and had a warm safe
place to sleep. Sometimes it takes a while to realize what I have to be
grateful for, but eventually it comes.
Tomorrow is your day, and I’m excited that I have the
ability to take you out for the day, and the means to make it happen. I think
this will be the best Mother’s Day we’ve ever spent together, and I look
forward to many more.
Mom, I know I’ve let you down. But I’m going to make it up
by becoming a good son, and making up for all the hurt I’ve caused. I love you,
Mom.