Grace
Finding Grace
Grandpa used to call you Winston Churchill
because of your baby
folds.
which were so
pronounced that a
mom once took me aside at the airport and
said
not to worry that you’d grow into
your belly.
Now I know I
what to be frightened of -
and it isn’t calories,
or others’ expectations -
I don’t know
how to let you
go - Katie Rizzo
***
I’ve been painting rather than going on the internet. I like these two koi fish I made.
***
Why Instagram thought I'd appreciate this photo (below) on my feed is beyond me. I’m sure whoever posted this (I covered up her name, etc) has been hurt, and hurting people hurt people, but shaming people with addiction kills me.
Abuse is inexcusable and abusers should face justice.
But alcoholics aren’t all abusers.
And people with addiction do terrible things.
Willpower and hitting bottom are not medical solutions to a physiological disease.
Don’t believe me? Ask the 200 people today who will die today in the US from an overdose.
***
Nick and I joined a grief support group. One of the first people we met, I’ll call her Anne, welcomed us and told us about her beautiful son and daughter-in-law. They were killed by a drunk driver. Her son was in the military, and both he and his young bride dedicated their lives to making the world a better place. Anne had label pins made with her son and daughter-in-law’s faces, and she decorated those with different colored ribbons for different holidays. These two amazing kids should be here.
I hesitated to tell Anne that my son died of his addiction. He died at home alone, which is immeasurably depressing. But he could have died behind the wheel.
His addiction isn’t a crutch that excuses driving under the influence. He did drive high, and it’s something I’m horrified by. I think he was horrified by it, too.
Nicholas was filled with shame about his love affair with pills, and every day he woke up saying, “Today will be different. I’m gonna be clean.” But by noon, his brain was exhausted.
The only way I have to understand it is through science. We all have several receptors for opioids. Let’s say Nicholas started out with 50 receptors. Every time he was prescribed an opioid, his body would react by increasing his receptors.
Why? Because our bodies like homeostasis - same state - and if something is coming in from the outside, our brains don’t know that.
So, now every time a doctor prescribed opioids, he “upregulated” his receptors, trying to match his own internal set point. After years of injuries and prescriptions, let’s say his forest of receptors went up to 250, but he was only making enough internal opioids for 50 receptors.
His body craved having all those receptors triggered by hormones, and when they weren’t, I could almost hear his brain cry out - feed me.
Which doesn’t excuse driving under the influence. And I wonder how Anne sat next to me at all those meetings.
And I wonder how Nicholas survived as long as he did.
***
“Behold them, will you, as they glow in the dark. The hair gone white. The careful step. The archipelago of age spots. The blue veins in the hands. The folds in the neck. The crack in the voice. Takes your breath away.”-My Wife is 85. She Takes My Breathe Away by Roger Rosenblatt
Nicholas deserved to grow old, to have folds in his neck, and age spots. That he doesn’t get to grow old can bring me to my knees.
***
The QUEEN of the written word, Anne Lamott, was going to discuss writing on Zoom with 600 other writers and me. We writers were staring at our screens on a Saturday morning, hoping to pluck a little wisdom from the mother tree.
A few minutes before my computer screen updated from ‘waiting for the host to let you in’ to a multi-tiled universe with unfamiliar faces, I grappled with insecurity, a gut knowing. It was more than imposter syndrome. It whispered, ‘What makes you worthy to take a space here on Zoom?’ You’re the mom of someone who died of addiction,and Anne Lamott’s son lived.
A nudge from a while ago somehow echoed in my now-empty head. “Don’t ask for permission” and “Eliminate judgment.” It was Anne Karber from her book The Life Hack.
Brilliant Annes surround me.
The woman introducing Lamott came on Zoom. She was the age of my youngest. This kid was at the beginning of her career, which fed fuel to my woe-is-me panic attack. The sweet girl said her kind and well-researched introduction and then mispronounced Anne’s name, saying it as if the e was silent.
Anne Lamott must be used to people forgetting the e at the end, and she said, “Hi. I’m Anne,” as she popped on the screen. And there she was: in color, with her braids and self-effacing stories, talking to me in real time.
I changed the screen size to zoom in because I couldn’t understand what was on Anne’s forehead.
Something like a giant bee must have just stung her, and she was having an allergic reaction. Inflamed, the raised red spot spread out its tentacles down her lovely face.
Anne never addressed her bump. I listened intently for her to say something about the elephant on her head, but she didn’t.
And maybe she didn’t on purpose. Because we all come to the table with pimples and warts. We are imperfect and stung.
And now I love Anne Lamott even more than before.
****
My good friend, the award-winning playwright, Laura Vosejpka, sent me her short play. It’s a heart tug on the mother-daughter relationships, aging, and letting go. https://youtu.be/mbk3kqQYNCY?si=tiOS3yDoqFAqW8-K
***
Austin Kleon has a book coming out this week (in time for Father’s Day), and he says:
So, if you didn’t know it - The Trimesters of Grief comes out for pre-order anywhere books are sold on June 12th! 💕💕
I was lucky enough to talk about the healing of poems and all art here with Moni C: https://open.spotify.com/episode/3cEsMGMR8zbK3Vhlnem0xU?si=ZLy6O5n-QwWaNaIW8q2HbA
And had a life changing heart conversation on grief with a fellow griever , Robert Delfave- https://open.spotify.com/episode/5yRC7fTzR7jmQtU45Wvkyk?si=KwvaaiH3T1GpZuo984zGtg
