It’s been almost six years since you left us. My world fell apart, but not because you died. I dealt with that – I had to, before I even left for London. I remember your advice so well – “Go live your life, don’t put it on hold for me!”
Well, Mom, I have had my life on pause now, for 18 years. Drugs. I haven’t been able to progress as a human being. I was stuck in a downward spiral, and it got awkward – actually, it got damned horrific, and there were times I just needed you to put your arms around me and say “It’ll be OK, my son!”
But it wouldn’t have been, not until I nearly threw the most important thing away: my own life. But your other children saved me, Mom, they dragged me out of the pit and they saved me. And now, the healing is well on its way, though I did have a slip up, but I am 29 days clean – no drugs and no alcohol. I went to the desert to celebrate at a beautiful festival, I offered up prayers, I thanked God that you had not been around to see my decay, and now I ask God to let you look down on me and guide me.
Mom, you were right about so many things, so many things – I am sorry I never listened to you. I am sorry I fought with you so much, I am sorry I didn’t tell you EVERY DAY how much I loved you.
I’m writing a book, that will be a celebration of me, and a revelation of my life, and I hope that my story can help others heal from their addiction, prevent them from taking that next hit, or even the first one. I know you and Dad did your best to raise us four kids – my addiction was not the fault of either of you. The blame is mine, and mine alone. There were lessons I should have learned along the way that I chose to ignore. But as I write my book, I realise that the wisdom was right there, in front of me, the knowledge, the guidance – it was always there. You didn’t fail me, Mom, I failed myself, and I failed you and Dad, and Lynn and Geordie and Jamie.
But I am learning, and oh BOY am I learning FAST! I learn every day. And I LOVE every day – I THRIVE every day.
Mom, I better go – I have 18 years to catch up, but I know I can, and I know you’d be proud of me, if you were here. But I don’t wish you were here, you’ve done your time here, and you deserve your peace, and your rest.
I love you, Mom, and I miss you. I think of you often.
Your baby angel, Dave.
© Dave Luis 2012. All Rights Reserved.