Category: Addiction

Surviving Mothers Day One Breath At A Time

Mary Beth Cichocki

Mothers Day.  Those two words once brought happy memories of cards and flowers, crabs and beer. My family gathered together to celebrate motherhood.  Three generations laughing and loving. Sharing the memories of childhood, then teen years that became adult years  changing our families women into mothers. Every year we gathered together at my house.   A beautiful family tradition.  Grandmothers, Aunts, Mother in Law, sister, sons and daughter.  To celebrate family and love.  This year Mother’s Day grabs my heart and shatters it like glass.  Broken in too many pieces to ever be repaired.  Our family forever changed by addiction.  A beautiful family tradition now missing a very large presence.

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Chance Meeting

Mary Beth Cichocki

Did you ever have a chance meeting with a stranger and later feel that there was nothing chance about it?  Today was one of those days.  I woke to the grief that  hits as soon as my eyes open and my mind wakes enough to realize my son, Matt is really gone.  His loss rocked my being like nothing I could have ever imagined.

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Surviving the Holidays: A Grieving Mom’s Point of View

Mary Beth Cichocki

The holidays.  Those two words used to bring such joy to my heart and plans to my head.  I would head to the store with my list and always ended up with more than I bargained for.  I would envision the day.  The table, the turkey, family, and friends all together and celebrating our blessings.  We started in the dining room but always ended up in the kitchen.  Pouring more wine, picking on leftovers, and laughing about how much we ate.  Three generations gathered under one roof.  Even the pups shared in the spirit of the day.   Lying under the table knowing which human was tender-hearted, slyly dropping pieces of turkey into their waiting mouths.

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For Mothers of Children Who Have Struggled with Mental Illness and Drug Addiction

debra reagan

Debra Reagan

Originally posted on Debra’s memorial site: www.clint-reagan.memory-of.com

Dearest Mothers,

In the beginning, it mattered to me the hows and whys of Clint’s death. My heart and my head argued. My heart keep saying, “He can’t be gone, we still have so much love to give him.” In a strange unfair twist, this love was even greater because it was not hindered with all the stress and chaos involved with dealing with someone struggling with mental illness and drug addiction. This wasn’t fair. I became angry. I had done everything I thought was right. I had been a stay at home mom up until middle school. We were an intact family. Clint had experienced some privileges in his life. We were there for him every step of the way. We tried to handle what we knew and what we understood.

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